


Just Before Dawn

by elizabethdell



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Doomed Relationship, Dystopia, F/F, Imagination, Pining, Science Fiction, Secret Identity, Two worlds, non-canon backstory, poking fun at superhero stories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-03-29 06:35:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 36,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13921440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elizabethdell/pseuds/elizabethdell
Summary: It’s always darkest just before the dawn. That’s what Kara has always told Alex, and for years it’s gotten her through the tough times. But something about this seems different. The nagging feeling that Sam is keeping something from her, that maybe there is more to this Reign situation than meets the eye, leads Alex to discover the truth about her life. She’s been in the dark far longer than she ever guessed.*Sam Arias has been assigned to monitor sleeper AA3578. What she discovers is a rich world of heroes and courage; a world of hope and dreams. As the lines between worlds blur and Alex learns the truth about Sam, Sam will have to decide between the hopeful world in the dark or the cold light of day.





	1. Day 1

“Alex!”

Alex’s head snapped up. J’onn gestured in a manner that somehow conveyed both concern and frustration. Had she been sleeping on the job? Gods, what was with her lately? It was like someone dropped her more or less ordinary life in a blender, scattering the pieces far and wide. It seemed as if so much had happened in what felt like no time at all.

“Sir?” said Alex.

“I asked if you had completed the analysis on Reign’s blood,” repeated J’onn. “We need to know how her biology differs from Supergirl’s.”

“Absolutely.” Alex slid her eyes to the screen. Damnit. The test finished running more than twenty minutes ago. How long had she been asleep?

“The test just finished,” Alex lied. “I’ll need some time to interpret the results.”

J’onn’s eyes narrowed and Alex hoped he wasn’t reading her mind. Slowly he inclined his head and with a curt spin left the lab.

Alex released the breath she didn’t realize she was holding. _Get it together Danvers_. Time to focus. Push everything that didn’t matter out of mind. Forget Purity and her hurtful words. The mess she’d made of everything in her love life, letting Maggie go – no. Telling Maggie to go. Then promptly sleeping with the first hot girl she got drunk with, on another earth no less. The memory still made Alex cringe. What if she never found someone else? She’d never connected with anyone until Maggie. Maybe that was her lot in life. Maybe Maggie was the only one and she’d thrown it all away…

_Stop_.

Alex shook her head. Now Reign and this weird grudge match between Lena Luthor and that skeezy businessman. The DEO was being pulled too many directions at once to try and keep National City safe. And Kara… Ugh. Sometimes it was difficult being the pragmatist in the family. Time and time again Kara’s innate optimism and belief in people left Alex feeling like a grouch. People were inherently bad, that seemed obvious. Yet around Kara, people somehow always rose to the occasion. Not so with Alex. How could two people living in the same universe have such different views? Maybe there was something wrong with Alex. Something that extended beyond her love life.

Alex focused her eyes on the numbers before her. Reign’s blood was definitely something other than human or Kryptonian. She watched the blood cells shift and heal in the video playback as she exposed them to various toxins. Alex frowned. This reminded her of something.

A vague memory tickled the back of her mind. The long white tiled hallways of the hospital, extending on an on like a tube…

Like an MRI.

Alex replayed the video. There had been a similar pattern when she examined Sam for the blackouts. It hadn’t been abnormal per se, but it was a bit different. Different enough that the current similarity in movement was uncanny. Something in Reign’s blood must mimic the condition Sam was experiencing. Or vice versa. Maybe Sam had some kind of run-in with Reign that was making her sick. Alex couldn’t discount the possibility. They were both in National City and the mere fact that Sam occasionally crossed paths with Kara Danvers made it more likely she could be a target.

Alex slid back the stool. She needed to get Sam in for more tests. Discretely. Sam would flip if she knew how serious it could be and Kara would probably dash off to fight Reign in an ill-conceived effort to protect her new friend.

Sam picked up after the second ring.

“Hello?” Her voice sounded shaky, but otherwise alright.

“Hey Sam, this is Alex.” Alex did her best to sound unconcerned. Just a friend calling to check up on another friend. Shouts echoed in the background.

“Is this an ok time?” Alex asked.

“Yeah, sure, it’s…” Sam was definitely distracted. She took a breath, sounding much more present as she continued. “Sorry. I took Ruby out to the ice rink. It’s a bit loud. Let me step outside.”

Alex waited as the hollers faded.

“Alright, shoot,” said Sam.

“It’s not a big deal,” said Alex. She grimaced as she tore the top of a fingernail off a bit too deeply. “I just wanted to see how you were doing. Maybe drop by tonight with some pizza and a movie?”

Sam laughed. A beautiful, unexpectedly tinkling laugh that warmed Alex’s cheeks. It was too soon to really think about it like _that_ , but comforting nonetheless. A reminder that the world was full of charming women, even if some of them had the tragic flaw of being straight.

“Swell,” said Alex, unable to keep the flirty smirk out of her tone. “I’ll be there at seven.”

“Don’t be late,” responded Sam. Alex swore the retort came with its own wink and smile. The image came too fast for Alex to suppress it. Ruby, squirming in between Alex and Sam, all three bundled under a blanket as the television cast blue and pink light across the room. Slowly Alex hung up the phone. This wasn’t going to end well.

It took an embarrassing amount of time but Alex finally settled on _Dirty Dancing_. A good balance of flirt and classic while being appropriate enough for Ruby to join them. Sam’s face lit up when Alex flashed the cover, confirming it had been a good choice.

“Hope you’re good with veggie pizza,” said Alex as she slid past Sam’s arm.

“Perfect,” said Sam. Her broad smile contrasted sharply with the bags under her eyes.

“How was skating?” asked Alex, averting her gaze.

Sam sighed, taking a seat at the breakfast bar.

“That good, huh? Personally, I never wear the right socks,” Alex said, setting down the pizza. “It’s fun until I realize I have five blisters.”

Sam gave a forced laugh. “No blisters,” she said. “But I…I spaced out again. Ruby had to call Lena for a ride home.”

“Oh my god.” Alex pulled up a seat beside Sam. Perfume mixed with body odor wafted from Sam’s sweater in a heady mixture.

“Yeah.” Sam turned to Alex intently. “Do you swear you didn’t find anything strange on the MRI?”

“Well…” Alex cleared her throat. “I swear I would have told you,” Alex said quickly. “There was nothing abnormal. But I did find something today that might explain your blackouts. Maybe.”

“Tell me.”

“It’s just a theory. But I think Reign might have infected you somehow. Have you had any run-ins with her?”

“Just the ceremony at the waterfront,” said Sam. She bit her lip. “Actually, that’s when this started.”

“That’s good,” said Alex encouragingly. “This gives us a starting place to making you better.”

“How?”

“Let’s put it this way,” responded Alex. “It’s more than we knew a day ago.”

Large dark eyes stared at her with an unwavering gaze. “How do you do it?” asked Sam.

“Do what?” Alex shifted to cover the discomfort that washed over her body with that piercing stare.

“You’re always so positive,” said Sam. “Faced with the absolute worst circumstances you still find hope.”

Alex shrugged. The cheese from the pizza burned the top of her mouth as she swallowed a bit too quickly.

“I figure I’ve made it this far.”

Sam’s eyes glazed over for half a second. Instinctively Alex reached out a hand to Sam’s sweater. Eyes darkened and nearly invisible pupils flicked towards Alex in surprise.

“Sorry,” said Alex, retracting her hand quickly. “I thought it might be another blackout.”

“No,” said Sam. “I’m so sorry to do this to you, but I just remembered… I actually have a really important call tonight. It’s with an Asian investment company, so you know, weird hours.”

“Of course,” said Alex, standing to leave. “You know how to find me.”

“That I do,” said Sam.”

*

I glare at Sonny, the first person I see upon opening my eyes and therefore the most likely source of the inconveniently timed message.

“What do you want Harrison?” I let the irritation come through.

“Speak for yourself Arias,” he replies. “I’m keeping you on protocol. You shouldn’t be interacting so directly.” My eyes follow his to the oversized monitor on the side wall. I should have turned that off before going in. But I never expected someone else to wander in after hours and start watching like evening programming. I wonder how much he saw.

“I’m rehabilitating her.”

“ _She_ doesn’t exist,” Sonny replies. “I think you mean AA3578.”

“Don’t be a dick.”

Sonny shrugs with a grin that reveals his lopsided teeth. Not for the first time I wonder why he never got that fixed. Pretty much everyone that makes it through the Ceremony celebrates with cosmetic surgery to clean up those unsightly scars, dental issues, acne, or whatever. After all, it’s free at that point, and by then you know you’ve got the rest of your life to enjoy the improvement.

Efficiently I snap off the neural band, taking a bit more care with the monitoring cuff on my forearm. The entire process of removing and sterilizing the equipment only takes about sixty seconds, but it feels like the longest sixty seconds ever with Sonny Harrison watching. I bite back more than one snotty retort. I’ve already pressed my luck snapping at him when I’m the one here after hours without a clear mandate. He could report me to management and there would be an investigation and then… Well. Best not to think about that. He’s made no indication he intends to report this.

“Why are you here?” I ask as pleasantly as possible.

With a crooked grin he holds up a notebook. “I forgot this.”

“Ah.”

Equipment sterilized and put away I finally relax. At least it’s not so late as to be overly suspicious. I shake my head at the clock.

“Time got away from me,” I say in what I hope is a casual tone. “I should get back before the dining hall closes.”

“Can I walk you?”

“Um…” _Please no_. “Sure…” I say.

So much for a bit of reflection. The darkened hallways light up as we activate the motion sensors on our exit. The sidewalks around the building are empty, a cool, almost chilly breeze probably keeping most people from a late evening walk.

Sonny lives in the Athens dorm, the closest to Neural Net HQ, but walks past the entrance, apparently intent on walking me all the way to the door of my dorm. I grit my teeth and try to be thankful that at least he’s not trying to make small talk. If I focus on the rustling of branches in the breeze and the orange-lit sidewalk I can almost forget he’s here.

“This is me.”

The disappointment on his face is almost, _almost_ , endearing. I dodge the half-hearted attempt at a hug and scot through the door waving my ID badge.

The dining hall is still open but staff are actively in the process of cleaning so I grab a sandwich to go. Fortunately, most employees of Neural Net HQ are socially awkward, so I’m not alone in averting my gaze to avoid conversation as I make my way up to my room.

It’s a small but respectable single unit for someone at my level. I toss my jacket and bag on the chair, stripping clothes as I move into the shower. Hot water pulses from the showerhead as soon as I enter. Tension rises from my body like steam, evaporating through the overhead vent.

Alex Danvers. AA3578. On the surface just a standard case, but that experience… The vividness and color. That smile, those rich brown eyes, the sassy way she put her hand on her hip, with enough of a pop to let you know she could kick your ass or be your best friend – your choice.

My fingers twitch involuntarily over to the old-fashioned monitor unit in the corner. Some analysts use these constantly, but I’ve always preferred to disconnect from work. Still…

It takes ten minutes but I finally get all the wires and plugs in the right spot. The curved screen flickers with grey and white spots for a second before the familiar jumble of images, words, and numbers begin floating across the screen. It’s a random feed but comforting nonetheless. Lights off, the glow from the screen provides the sole illumination to the room; and in the shifting dreamscape of some unknown subject I release myself from the day.


	2. Day 2

“So there’s definitely a link between Reign and Sam?” Supergirl asked again.

“I mean…” Alex hedged. “Definitely may be a little strong. It seems likely though. But we shouldn’t make a move until we know for sure,” she finished quickly.

“Hm,” Supergirl responded with uncharacteristic thoughtfulness. Alex had expected her to go flying off, which is why she’d waited until they were in the training room to say anything, far from windows.

“We have to approach this delicately,” Alex continued. “We don’t know how they are connected but harming Reign could hurt Sam.”

“And vice versa,” Supergirl added.

“Also a possibility.”

Supergirl bit her lip. “What does Sam know about you?”

“She thinks I’m a researcher.”

“But working for a government agency?”

“Yes.”

“Can you get her here?” Supergirl gestured to the reinforced structure around them. “It would be safe. You could monitor her vitals while I go kick Reign’s ass.”

Alex took care to maintain a neutral expression. “I’ve already thought of that,” she said carefully. “I don’t see how I can get her here without giving away more. And that would be dangerous. Especially given who she works for.” Alex let the emphasis on that last part sink in.

Kara scowled. “Fine. What do we do then?”

Alex shrugged. “Right now, nothing. Reign is MIA for the time being so I’ll keep doing research, trying to study Sam, while you keep things calm in National City.”

“It doesn’t feel like enough.”

Alex smiled. Her baby sister. Always wanting to save the world at full speed. The break would do her good though. Give her more time to recharge in the yellow sun, calm down and fight smart whenever Reign finally reappeared. Or time to get some work done for CatCo. It never ceased to amaze Alex how Kara could so conveniently switch between her Supergirl crises and CatCo work, somehow balancing both.

Alex patted Kara on the back, signaling the end of discussion. Reluctantly Kara trudged towards the locker room.

At least that was settled. Now onto regular DEO business. Which meant of course more research.

“Winn, tell me you’ve got something new,” Alex said.

The techie spun in his chair.

“Yes!” he said. “Well kind of. I found some references to this Kryptonian religion. Since Reign and her pals seem to be big believers, J’onn thought that might be a good starting place.”

Alex nodded. “Nice thinking. What has it turned up?”

“Same ole, same ole so far. A lot of stuff about ‘we shall reign’ and purging the impure. A good reminder why I never liked church.”

Alex pressed her fingers to her temples. This must be her personal hell. It always went in circles.

“We already know Reign hates criminals,” she said.

“Well actually, that’s the interesting piece,” said Winn. “The text isn’t specific to crime or criminals as the impure. The text refers to the supremacy of Kryptonians. The impure seem to be anyone else.”

The buzzing in Alex’s head grew louder as it clicked. Criminals were only the training ground. Easy targets that wouldn’t arouse the full wrath of society.

“Humans,” said Alex. “We’re the ones they want to purify.”

Closer, but not quite right. The seed of an idea began to form. Quickly, Alex spun on her heel.

“I’ll be in the lab,” she called.

It only took two tests to confirm the theory. Reign’s physiology was different than Kara’s because it was synthetic. A remarkable scientific reproduction of a Kryptonian, almost impossible to spot but for the unusual genetic splicing here and there. Even the sophisticated Krypton scientists hadn’t been able to fully cover the irregularities caused by genetically engineered DNA. But how did that tie back to Sam?

With hesitation, Alex pulled out the blood samples drawn from Sam during her exam. Nothing unusual had shown up then, but testing for genetic splicing wasn’t exactly part of the standard array. The viscous red liquid swayed against the sides of the small tube.

Sam was adopted, Alex knew that much. She’d never inquired about her birth parents. Maybe she didn’t want to know, in which case running genetic tests on the blood would amount to a kind of invasion of privacy. But testing for modification was different, even if a far-fetched theory. It wouldn’t reveal her parentage so much as origin. But what kind of parents would spend the time, not to mention the money, to create a test-tube baby and then put it up for adoption? It made no sense. Unless…

Alex regarded the tube from the side. Something more illicit perhaps. Secret human cloning or genetic enhancement experiments. Somehow activated by Reign? She’d seen crazier things happen. Like alien invasions and walking on the surface of distant planets.

Slowly, Alex opened the tube, pipetting a small amount of blood onto a handful of microslides.

She didn’t have to tell Sam, especially if nothing turned up. But she needed to know.

*

“Arias, the boss wants to see you.”

Out of the corner of my eye Sonny ducks his head. That fucker. I let him walk me home and he reports me anyway. I snap the gloves off my hands, depositing them in the biohazard bin without glancing in Sonny’s direction.

“Come in,” says the deep, cultured voice. Lena Luthor glances up from her nearly bare, white desk. “Samantha Arias,” she says. “I’ve been expecting you.”

I’ve only seen Ms. Luthor from afar and in brochure photos before. She’s even more striking in person, with a decided air of someone who knows they’re the smartest person in the room and likely the most attractive. No wonder she’s the youngest ever CEO of Neural Net. She smiles in a manner that should convey comfort but only increases my nervousness.

“Can I call you Samantha?” she asks.

“I prefer Sam.”

“Sam it is. Please call me Lena. I abhor formalities.” Lena smiles before glancing down and flipping through her tablet.

“I received a report about some work you’ve been doing,” she says in a pleasant tone.

“I’m so sorry,” I say. I’m interrupting when I should keep my mouth shut but the words spew forth uncontrollably.

“I had a theory about the unit I wanted to try out that was…delicate. I realize I should have alerted another analyst to anchor me. It won’t happen again. I promise.”

My heart pounds high in my throat, making it difficult to breath. This is how it ends. Survive the Ceremony, recruited into the most coveted corporation, all to be released on a breach of protocol.

The pause extends.

“Sam, you’re not in trouble.”

Burning anxiety makes it painful to speak.

“I’m not?”

Lena chuckles.

“No. If anything I’m impressed with the technique you showed.” She scans through the text rapidly. “You were assigned subject AA3578 with the task of improving productivity. Not only are the unit’s specs up to normal after your intervention, but output has increased.”

She folds her hands, leaning forward intently.

“Do you know why AA3578 was assigned for debugging?”

I shift slightly against the hard chair. It’s a trick question. Mere analysts are not privy to that information.  Just imagine the fear and possible terrorism that could result. But sometimes an effective debug requires a bit of prying, or at least speculation.

“I…was not informed as to the reason,” I say carefully.

“But you know why?” Lena presses. She leans back, waving a hand with a smile. “I won’t make you say it. AA3578 was inadvertently connected to another unit. When we severed the connection, productivity promptly declined. Rather precipitously. Now tell me, how did you discern this and fix the problem?”

My mouth gapes as I struggle to remember language. Did the CEO of Neural Net really just outline for me the reason for a unit debug? That kind of breach would land anyone else into the void in a matter of hours.

Lena flips open her tablet again, scrolling through.

“I took the liberty of doing some research into you,” she continues. “Top of the class in computer science and side studies into psychology and sociology. An interesting mix. What drew you to apply for Neural Net?”

“I was recruited,” I stutter. “I wanted to make a difference.”

“I’ll have to thank your recruiter. You made a big difference yesterday, and I think you could make an even greater one. Explain to me your thought process. How did you fix AA3578?”

I swallow hard. If I’m in it might as well go all in.

“The unit needed a replacement for certain feelings that had developed as a result of the connection,” I begin carefully. “As well as the requisite threat to maintain high levels of cortisol and adrenaline. I simply installed a replacement figure to fulfill both of those roles.”

“And most creatively, if I may say so,” adds Lena approvingly. “How did you think of incorporating the subject’s mythology into the new figment?”

“I let the subject create it,” I say, warming to the subject. “Alex, or unit AA3578, has created a rich architecture. Much richer than any I’ve seen. I think that’s why prior efforts might have failed. She’s going to reject anything that doesn’t fit within her construct of the world; but give her concepts and she will fill in those details for you. It’s like improv. I try to work with the subject to create a mutually acceptable scenario that fulfills the lacking emotional need…”

Lena nods.

“Do you follow the news?” she asks.

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but Neural Net has been operating at ninety-five plus percent capacity for the past several months.”

“Wow.”

“Wow is right. We’re pushing the limits of what these units can handle, and it’s created a myriad of issues, new debugs. Problems that lead to solutions that cause new problems like the one you had to correct.” Lena rubs her eyes and behind her put-together façade I see a woman only a few years older than myself that is very, very tired.

“I need solutions,” Lena says firmly. “Good solutions. Young people with new ideas. I think you’re one of those people, Sam.”

“I don’t know…”

“You solved a problem that had been assigned to four other analysts previously. You have a background in human psychology as well as computer science. Most analysts think of the subjects as computers, but you remembered that in the end, these are human computers that respond to psychology, not just algorithms.”

“I guess…”

“Sam, I’m putting you on special assignment.” Lena stands, hands on the desk, gazing at a point somewhere behind me. Abruptly her dark eyes move to mine.

“You will report directly to me. Select a handful of subjects and you have full authority to work with them however you see fit. I’ll want reports at least weekly on the changes you’ve made and impact to productivity. I’m looking for strategies that can be implemented across the company. If you require any special equipment let my assistant know and it will be requisitioned. Do you have any questions?”

“I… No. Ma’am. Thank you.”

“Just Lena,” she corrects.

She extends a hand and dumbly my own palm greets hers.

“And thank you, Sam.”

*

Alex ran the test three times just to be sure. Once could be a fluke. A false positive. Twice…maybe just bad luck. But the third time it had to be true.

Sam’s DNA was genetically engineered, just like Reign. Well, not _just_ like. Sam was human, obviously, but it was still a hell of a coincidence that these two new characters in her life just happened to be the product of experimentation.

Did Sam know?? This had to be kept secret. From J’onn, Kara, everyone. The truth would destroy Sam. To learn her entire life was someone’s experiment? Alex couldn’t even begin to imagine how crushing that would be. Not to mention her unspecified connection to Reign. It might tip her off as well, create some kind of response the DEO was not ready for.

But first things first. Alex needed to get closer to Sam. There was an outside chance that whatever entity had patched together Sam’s DNA was still tracking her. They would have the answers Alex needed.

Slowly the dual strands of genetic material twisted on the screen, the expert splicing points digitally highlighted.

Who was Samantha Arias? Where did she come from?

Alex sighed and pulled on a fresh pair of gloves. It was going to be a long night.


	3. Twelve Years Ago

“Danvers, Alexandra?”

Alex stepped forward from the cluster of children. Technically they were the same age as her, but to Alex they seemed like children, talking too loudly and letting their nerves show, making jokes in poor taste. It was no way to impress the Board. And anyone with half a brain knew that the testing began as soon as you entered the facility. They were already watching. Probably had already eliminated some.

Alex was going to make sure she wasn’t one of them.

Head held high, Alex approached the heeled woman holding the clipboard and smiled. _Be confident but friendly_. The woman half-smiled in response and indicated Alex should follow.

Several long tables of study desks with dividers filled the room. Despite the number of people, the noise remained at a low hum, a combination of generally low voices and the sound dampeners affixed to the dividers. The host guided Alex to a row and consulted the clipboard.

“Seat nineteen,” she said in a brisk tone.

Alex tried to not look at the other applicants as she moved towards her number and the only open seat visible in the row. Clear plastic divided the side she was one and the other, on which her proctor waited.

In her nervousness, Alex forgot to smile as she sat and instead her first impression was the panicked breath that escaped as she realized, too late, she’d been holding her breath during the approach. Her proctor, a dark-skinned man, built like a linebacker broke into a grin.

“Don’t let it get to you,” he said, rich voice reverberating through the barrier. He waved one hand casually. “This whole set-up is supposed to make you nervous. I’d be more concerned with anyone that wasn’t anxious.”

“Thanks,” said Alex.

“I’d shake your hand but they discourage that kind of thing,” he continued with a chuckle, gesturing at the glass. “My name is Jonathan Jones. But please just call me Jon.”

“Alex. Danvers.”

“It’s a pleasure, Alex. Shall we begin?”

Alex nodded. It was time to begin the Test.

*

Too many people, too few resources, too much competition for those resources. Humanity is dying, choking on its own overpopulation and subsequent pollution.

How to turn a bad thing into a good? Rebrand it as an untapped resource.

People.

We spend at least a third of our lives asleep. And the sleeping human brain produces enough natural energy to replace the costly and polluting coal, while being more reliable than solar or wind power.

The problem? No one volunteers to be harvested for energy. Not willingly, anyway, and thus is born the new way, the master plan. The human race has become weak. We needn’t be heathens but the future should go to those most fit for survival. The smartest and the strongest. 

“But the children!” comes the retort. “Are you really going to condemn a child?”

Then finally, a compromise. Everyone lives through their childhood, assuming they have an adult that will take them into their care. Everyone gets a chance. But not all chances are made the same.

The Board, consisting of the heads of all the major corporations, devises a test. Not just any old test, but the Test. The crux of the master plan. Each year a limited number of spots are available – the number of children that are eligible to cross into adulthood. For everyone else, hope you enjoyed the ride, but your time is up. Now you’re going to give back for the resources you consumed in your younger years, the years we so generously let you live.

But the Board places its thumb on the scales, just a bit. See, in deciding who gets a spot and who doesn’t, the Test always starts with those whose parents have given the most. The children of CEOs, notable inventors, top athletes and artists get the advantage. The first to test, the first chance to impress, the first to be selected for the next generation.

It goes down from there. VPs, Directors, Managers, so on and so forth. But everyone gets a chance, they remind us. Every child can take the Test and, Darwin willing, survive.

They say those not chosen never know their fate. That it’s painless, like falling asleep, which of course is the most ironic metaphor they could use. For all intents and purposes, they are asleep. These perpetual children will age gently in the somniostatic chamber designed to keep their brains actively producing energy for harvest while their bodies remain motionless. The never-ending dream.

Everybody wins. The sleepers never have to know. They can build whatever future they desire, limited only by their imagination. Meanwhile the winners inherit the earth. Having been found worthy they are eligible for a host of free services, all designed to reward them for their status as the best and brightest. Higher education, technology, medicine… Only the best for those that make it to the Ceremony.

Which is why I am so nervous today, face to face with a woman I’ve never met who has the power to decide my fate. Should I be friendly or distant? Confident or humble? Of the dozens and dozens of proctors and attendants, which among them _really_ has the power to decide? Can it be that it’s already been predetermined? Maybe this is all a ruse, an elaborate show put on for the sake of the populace. I can’t shake the nagging thought that my fate and the fate of everyone here has already been decided.

“Samantha Arias,” she says in a clipped tone. “Are you ready to begin?”

*

After completing the psychological evaluation with Jon, Alex headed out the other side of the room for the mental and physical portions. She raced against her peers to complete first logic puzzles and then obstacle courses. When the final barrier of the course required teamwork, Alex quickly formed a process to get everyone over the wall. She felt pretty confident she’d nailed the Test so far, but it was the part after that no one seemed to know about.

Names were called and in groups they moved to different rooms. One group was clearly destined for the void, not the sharpest tacks or best moves. Covertly Alex checked out the others in her group. They were all contenders, clearly. They were moving on to the next stage of the Test.

In a line, they slowly funneled forward, receiving the uniforms they would wear for the remainder of the test and checking their identifying documents. This was it. Alex bit back a smile. Still miles to go. But lots to celebrate.

The only child of a single mother, Alex knew the odds were against her. Not impossible, but high. It didn’t matter. Alex would keep her promise and make it through. She would wave to her mother from the stage of the Ceremony. She stuffed her jeans and shirt into the locker and hurried back out to join the group. The room was empty but for them and a large screen at the front of the room. The last few applicants in the group trickled in and the screen brightened, showing a proctor dressed all in white. The murmuring amongst applicants promptly ceased.  

“Every year,” he began, “we see an increasing number of applicants to move into adulthood. As you all know, society can only move forward with the best of the best.”

The on-screen proctor smiled, pearly white, even teeth. A hopeful, expectant pause filled the room. Alex thought her heart might burst with pride.

“It is my duty to inform you,” the proctor continued, “that you are not among the best of the best. We thank you for your future contribution to society.”

Half a second of pure silence before someone released a cry, and the entire group surged forward towards the screen. The image went dark and with a hiss, a steam-like vapor began to fill the room.

*

I can’t bring myself to smile. I sit stiffly across from my proctor while she peppers me with questions. The only instruction I’ve been given is to answer them as quickly as possible.

_Are your actions influenced by your emotions?_

_Why are there exceptions to every rule?_

_If you could eat yourself, would you become twice as big or disappear?_

_If you make toast in a toaster, what do you make in a microwave?_

_What is the speed of dark?_

_How long is a piece of string?_

_What color is a mirror?_

_What’s in the box?_

“Another box,” I respond. My mind is blank. I’m not even sure where these answers are coming from. The proctor pauses before noting my response. I think I’m out. She sets down the sheet. I see a whole stack of questions. No one gets the same ones.

“You can head out to your right,” the woman says.

They run us around like dogs at the track before we sit down for the final set of challenges. Number games, shape puzzles, and word codes. It’s all stupid. _This_ is how they decide?

Finally we are divided into groups and the speculation begins. Whose group is in and which ones are out? Mine appears to be a mixed bag, some winners that appeared to do quite well in one or more activities and some possibly more questionable choices. I’m in the green group, because letters and numbers would appear to rank us, and the Board wants to fuck with our minds until the very last second. I have to admire their commitment to creating paranoia.

“Green group follow me,” says an administrator. “You’re headed to room 104.”

We begin to shuffle off but I’m stopped by a delicate touch.

“Samantha Arias?”

I turn with a start.

A youngish, pretty woman glances from her clipboard to me. Comparing photos, I realize belatedly.

“Please come with me,” she says.

From my group a low noise begins to rise. An “ohhh…” that deepens before it rises. The universal signal to others that someone is in trouble. The universal indicator to the masses that they have eluded fate’s grasp. This time. A few others are also pulled aside, but the group’s attention is on me.

“I haven’t done anything,” I say softly.

A soft but firm hand grasps my bicep.

“I know dear,” she says. “Trust me, this is best.”

Face flushing with shame, I follow her away from the group as they happily continue towards room 104 to claim their uniforms. I wouldn’t see those uniforms again for twelve years, when I would learn they had a singular meaning and purpose.

*

Alex stood without moving a muscle as the fog continued to fill the room. Some of the others went down coughing. Alex stared at the now-blank screen.

This had to be a mistake. She’d done everything right. Everything. Been at the top of her school class and prepared for all three of the major testing components. She was going to see her mother at the Ceremony. Apply for a job. Get married. Have children. Raise a family.

It had to be a dream. Any minute now she’d wake up, complete the Test, and wave to her mother from the Ceremony stage. She couldn’t spend the rest of her life asleep. She couldn’t…couldn’t…remember how she got here.

Alex blinked, lids heavy. White steam faded to black and then, there was nothing.


	4. Day 3

I rub my eyes. It’s harder than expected to read AA3578’s personal file. It brings back memories of my own Test, the same year as the unit’s, although we wouldn’t have crossed paths having been assigned different testing dates. The lab is empty, save for myself and the stack of files currently strewn across a couple work stations. I need to focus. Break this down into bite-size chunks.

Step 1: Decide which units to claim for my new project.

I’m only working with units I know. These are the personal files on the last ten I’ve debugged. Three are definitely in, three are definitely out. I can pick one more of the remaining four. My finger twitches towards Alex’s file again. It’s so solid in my hands, but the words seem to float away, elusive and ephemeral as a dream. It would be wrong to pick Alex. I’ve gotten too close to the subject already. The smarter option would be subject six, my next choice.

A noise at the door makes me jump.

“Sorry to startle you,” comes the cultured voice. “I don’t often see people in here before sunrise. I should have guessed it would be you.”

Lena steps more fully into the room. She looks smashing in a sharp pencil shirt, bright red lipstick, her dark hair swept up in a neat but casual bun. I’m painfully aware how strung out I must look by comparison, having stayed up all night chugging coffee and reading.

“Ms. Luthor…” I push my stool back and a couple files drop to the floor, scattering paper.

“Lena,” she responds. “I insist.”

Awkwardly I scoop up the errant paper as Lena kneels down to help.

“I apologize if I frightened you,” she repeats. “I like to check out the facility first thing in the morning. It helps me feel connected to the rest of the company, but I realize my presence makes most of my employees nervous.”

Lena glances through the windows that line the upper half of the wall and sighs. Thick clouds obscure most of the sky, but in the patches in between grey gives way to a light purple.

“This is my favorite time of day,” she confesses. “The moment just before dawn. Everything is silent and calm, as if the world is holding its breath.”

“It’s always the darkest just before the dawn,” I say. It comes out in a rather goofy imitation of an ominous tone, like a preview for a horror flick, and I feel immediately stupid.

Unexpectedly, Lena releases a throaty laugh, tossing back her head.

“It is,” she agrees. “The sun rises and we forget all about the dark night. It’s for the best in my opinion. Let the monsters under the bed have the night. You and I are creatures of the day. Aren’t we Sam?”

“Speak for yourself. I spend more time with our night minds here,” I say, gesturing to the files.

Lena inclines her head to one side.

“I’ll have to do something about that.” She smooths out her skirt with two quick brushes and turns, glancing over her shoulder.

“Have a good day, Sam.”

The door closes quietly behind her before I can respond.

Quickly I shuffle the papers back into their folders, adding subject six to my study pile and noting the unit number in my project log. Outside the pale purple has turned to pinks and oranges that peek out from the dispersing clouds. I grab the study files, and almost as an afterthought, the file on AA3578.

Step 2: Requisition my own neural connector in a private location.

I have a feeling Lena Luthor will approve my request.

*

Lena sure was keeping Sam busy these days. It seemed every time Alex tried to invite herself over Sam had another excuse. Not even the promise of free babysitting was enough to catch Sam as she ran from work to Ruby’s school and back again.

“Ruby can handle herself,” Sam assured her. “I wouldn’t want to trouble you.”

The niceties were actually causing Alex quite a bit of trouble. She couldn’t move forward in her work until she managed to see Sam in person. So instead she focused her attention on the alien gang using mesmerizing music to rob banks and then the mysterious symbols that suddenly appeared about thirty miles east of the city. Pranks by the bored children of farmers, as the latter turned out to be. And subliminal sound waves for the former, seemingly silent in video playback but creating a sense of euphoria and peace when heard live, shutting down the senses to all else.

Alex had definitely thought about taking that alien recording into a small, soundproof room for her own small slice of euphoric relaxation. But without a way to pause the music, she’d likely lay there forever, turning into a vegetable and dying of dehydration with a smile on her face. Not exactly how she’d like to end her time here on earth. So Alex continued to power through the list of low-level alien threats and take out her frustration on the punching bag every night.

She was in the midst of her current boxing session when the phone buzzed, causing it to topple off the edge of the matt. Alex paused, breathing hard. The phone buzzed again, and unable to control her curiosity, Alex pulled a glove off.

_Hey stranger._

_Wanna hang out tonight?_

Texts from Sam. Dots indicated more was on the way.

_We never got to see Dirty Dancing…_

Alex grinned as she poked out a response with one hand.

_I thought you were avoiding me. What’s so special about tonight?_

Alex waited while the message sent. She didn’t have to wait long.

_It’s Friday._

Oh right. That was a thing for people with normal jobs, wasn’t it? Maybe Sam really had just been busy. Regardless, Alex had been waiting too long to even try and play hard to get.

_I’ll be there in an hour. This time you get the pizza._

Alex let the phone drop to the matt and with a grin, replaced the glove, and finished her set.

A hot shower and a change of clothes later, Alex knocked on the door to Sam’s place. Ruby opened the door with a smile.

“Mommmmmmm, Alex is here,” yelled Ruby. “Can I play _Zombie Hunter_ with her?”

A muffled response from the kitchen. Alex tussled Ruby’s hair.

“Maybe later, kiddo. Right now, I’m starving.”

Ruby grinned.

“Me too.”

Alex followed Ruby into the kitchen. Sam had her usual frazzled look as she spun between the fridge and oven and Ruby. Alex leaned against the entryway with a smirk. It never ceased to amuse her that this person who seemed to have it all together in public was such a spaz in private. Sam blew a stray piece of hair out of her face and with a laugh, Alex stepped forward to help, pushing the errant strand aside as Sam pulled the pizza out.

“I have never seen a human being struggle so much with frozen pizza,” Alex remarked. “And Kara once melted a spoon in one of those instant pastas, so I know about struggling in the kitchen.”

“You must think I’m such a disaster,” laughed Sam.

“I think you’re a successful woman raising a child on her own,” Alex responded. “And doing a great job.”

Sam’s cheeks, already flushed from the heat of the oven, darkened in color.

_I might be coming on a bit strong_. Not that Sam seemed to mind.

Alex cleared her throat as her hand wandered to the phone-sized detector in her pocket. She wasn’t sure this would work, after all, with the sophisticated DNA splicing it was possible any tracker still in Sam would be state of the art. Discretely she activated the module, stepping closer to Sam under the guise of helping to slice the pizza. Gently the unit vibrated against her leg, finally emitting two long vibrations to signal completion of the scan.

“Hey, do you mind if I freshen up before we eat?” Alex asked.

“Of course not,” said Sam. “Down the hall and to the left.”

Once in the bathroom, Alex turned on the facet. She opened the small detector. Nothing. No sign of radio or other signal waves from Sam. Alex sighed in frustration.

_Round and round we go_. This was her recurring nightmare, a riddle, always unsolvable.

No matter. She still had dinner and the evening ahead to chat Sam up. It was possible Sam knew more than she let on. Maybe Sam didn’t even know how much she knew.

Sam had already lined up plates on the coffee table along with two very full glasses of wine. Alex smiled. The universe was finally working with her. Alex sat beside Sam but had to scoot over when Ruby bounded into the room and wiggled her way in between the two adults.

Sam kissed Ruby on the head and as the lights dimmed, all that could be heard were gentle eating noises and the opening music to the movie. Slowly the plates were cleared and shoved aside. Wine glasses refilled whenever anyone got within a sip of the bottom and at some point Sam grabbed an afghan, tossing it over the trio. They all slipped lower on the couch, Ruby finally falling asleep with ten minutes to go, snoring softly against her mother’s chest.

Alex turned down the volume.

“Thanks,” whispered Sam. “I should get her to bed before she wakes and gets cranky.”

“Of course.”

With some effort, Sam lifted Ruby off the couch, afghan coming with her. They disappeared down the hall as moving light from the screen turned the TV room into a living kaleidoscope.

Credits rolled and Alex turned off the TV. Sam plopped back against the couch, her wine sloshing dangerously close to the edge. She seemed fairly tipsy. Hopefully enough that Alex’s next move wouldn’t cause any suspicion.

“Not to act like your doctor or anything, but how have you been?” Alex asked. “Any blackouts? Headaches?”

Sam shook her head. “Nothing like that recently. I just…” She sighed. “I worry. Not so much for me. But for Ruby. Whenever it happens Ruby takes it the hardest. I feel like I’m letting her down.”

“Not at all,” said Alex firmly. “She’s got my number now, so if anything happens she knows to call me.”

Sam nodded into her glass.

“I’ve been thinking,” Alex continued. “There are a few neurological conditions that match your symptoms. Specifically, some with a genetic component.”

“Can’t you test for that?” asked Sam. “If you need DNA just tell me what to do.”

“It’s not quite that simple. It’s a combination of DNA and environmental factors that can activate the condition. Unfortunately, we don’t know much about the environmental aspect. The best predictor is whether a parent ever presented with the condition.”

Alex let the unspoken question hang in the air.

“I’m afraid I can’t help you there,” responded Sam with a harsh laugh.

“Anything would help,” said Alex. “The name or date of your adoption… By law they are required to make medical records available for purposes like this. No strings attached. This could help you. It could help Ruby.”

Sam sighed.

“Fine,” she said finally. “But I decided a long time ago I didn’t want to know anything about my biological parents. I’ve seen too many of my friends disappointed or boxed in. I’d rather be my own person.”

“I swear the only information I would look for is related to your condition,” Alex said. “And I feel you on being disappointed by parents. Honestly if I could not know my parents…”

Alex shook her head. One parent to whom she was a constant source of disappointment. And the other that turned out to be the disappointment. It made Alex wonder if she was destined for the same kind of transformation. Maybe she too would become the harsh, critical mother; or worse the two-faced lying monster. Sam was right – it was better to chart your own path. Better not to know.

“I didn’t mean you,” Sam said. “Your parents seem great.”

“Right up until they leave and everything changes,” Alex said. It felt good to express her bitterness aloud for once.

“That must have been so hard with your father,” Sam said sympathetically. “And Cadmus.”

“Yeah…”

Alex’s chest contracted at the memory of her father. The pain blocked all other senses, but an odd thought slipped through the cracked edges of her psyche.

*

“Wait,” Alex says, her tone deepening. “How do you know about my father? Or Cadmus?”

I freeze. _Shit_.

“You, um. You’ve mentioned…him. Or Kara mentioned him…”

Dark eyes narrow again, this time more intently.

“No,” Alex responds slowly. “I don’t think I have.”

Alex stands, stepping away carefully.

“You know, it’s funny,” she says. “You’ve been around, what? Two months? Yet some how you’re already best friends with Kara and me. I guess it helps that you seem to know a lot about us. Things I’ve never told you. Things you couldn’t know unless…”

My body stiffens. I’m not actually sure what will happen in this situation. When the subject self-realizes the nature of the construct. When the blanks they’ve been subconsciously filling in for story cohesion sudden become apparent.

“Who are you?”

Goofy, easy-going Alex has been replaced by scary Alex. The one that looks at home with a gun on her hip and who reminds you she can knock you out seven ways with her left pinky finger.

“I…”

“Ok, I’ll get us started with the sharing.”

Alex is talking louder now, her accusations beginning to veer into anger. I should cut this off. Redirect her attention to Ruby or some other element of the simulated world but I’m morbidly curious how this will play out. Could I witness a breakthrough?

“You weren’t born, Sam. Not how normal humans are. Someone created you, in a lab somewhere. It’s fancy stuff and for the life of me I can’t figure out why a genetically engineered human is sitting here, seemingly living an ordinary life, yet also _somehow_ connected to a super-charged alien that wants to destroy humanity!”  

Alex takes a breath and I realize that I too have been holding my breath. With all the calm I can muster I respond.

“I don’t know Alex. But I’m hoping you can figure it out.”


	5. Day 4

Alex’s head pounded, but it wasn’t a hangover. She’d felt this only twice before, a stress headache, specifically caused by going to bed angry last night. The small items strewn about her apartment confirmed the diagnosis. Alex buried her head back beneath the covers.

How had it all gone so horribly wrong? The evening was an unmitigated failure. The detector turned up nothing, and instead of getting any useful information she’d somehow ended up screaming at Sam about being a test-tube baby before storming out. Alex grimaced. The wash of anger came out of nowhere. Alex had no explanation for why she’d been so mad. Blood boiling mad she recalled. Pure, adrenaline-fueled rage.

Even her cell phone seemed to reproach her. She owed Sam an apology.

Alex reached for her cell phone and frowned. Unfortunately, it appeared Sam had beaten her to it. A late night text sent a little after three in the morning.

_I’m sorry for bringing up your father. Kara told me it was a sensitive subject. She explained that he died working for a company called Cadmus. I don’t know the details and I promise not to ask. I know what it’s like to not want to talk about certain things._

Of course. It probably came up and Kara told a little white lie to make the topic go away. Alex couldn’t believe how she’d overreacted. She should have let Sam explain, but no, she had to fly off the handle and assume the worst.

This made the situation that much worse. It called for way more than a standard apology. Alex needed to do some full-on groveling for forgiveness. She glanced at the clock. Sam had mentioned a soccer game today. Ruby’s league played at…

Alex furrowed her brow. Fairfax Park. Only a couple blocks away from Sugar Donuts. Apologies always went better with donuts.

Sam balanced a coffee on her knee as she quickly fixed Ruby’s ponytail.

“Is that better?” she asked.

Ruby scrunched her face. “I guess, but it’s still tight.”

“Well that’s how it holds all the hair in place,” Sam replied. “Once you start playing you won’t even notice. Now go get’em! And you don’t need to wave at me every time you get the ball. I’ll be right here watching the whole time.”

Alex watched Ruby hug her mother and skip over to the team in blue jerseys.

It had to be jealousy. Sam had so much of the life Alex wanted, maybe the blowup had nothing to do with Reign or mysterious DNA. Steeling her nerves, Alex approached, donut box leading.

*

Ruby waves from her team huddle and I return the wave with a little extra gesture. _Pay attention_. To the other soccer moms I probably look exasperated but this is my favorite time and place. Sitting on the sidelines, watching Ruby run around with the other kids her age. No one cares about the score. Win or lose, the team will go out for burgers and shakes afterwards, and repeat the entire exercise next Saturday. The ritual emphasizes how much time I spend caring about things that, just like this game, don’t really matter as much as the experience itself.

“I wanted to apologize for last night.”

I jump about ten inches out of my chair, spilling coffee on the grass. Alex looks abashed at her unintended ambush. I notice only as I’m dabbing coffee from my shoe, the box of donuts held in offering.

“You really didn’t have to,” I say.

“I think I did,” Alex retorts. It comes out a bit defensively. Her throat bobs.

“What can I do to make it up to you? Anything; and if it’s within my power I’ll do it.”

Ruby runs out to midfield as the other kids take their positions. The ref blows a whistle, signaling the game about to start.

“Just sit and watch with me,” I say, eyes not moving from my beautiful Ruby. My eyes fill with tears that don’t fall. Through watery eyes Ruby begins to run, waving her arms and shouting for the ball. She runs so easily, soundless at this distance. Suddenly, grass is replaced with wooden flooring as her feet strike with the sound of knocking.

“Sam?”

I open my eyes in surprise.

“Ms. Luthor. I mean Lena. Hello.” Quickly I remove the neural band, giving it a cursory wipe down. I’ll sterilize it fully later.

Lena steps into my small apartment, which feels even smaller than usual with my unexpected visitor.

“I thought I’d swing by and check out your new set-up,” Lena says brightly. “I should have guessed you wouldn’t waste any time getting down to business.”

“Right,” I stammer.

Absent-mindedly Lena fingers the untouched monitor. Even unplugged it makes me nervous. What if she set the network to secretly record my sessions? Maybe I’m about to be released.

“I’m sorry,” Lena says suddenly, “you must have a million things to do other than chat with your boss. Or your boss’s boss I guess.”

“Um, well, I guess you get to decide that.”

Lena laughs. “You have such a nice way of putting everything, Sam. I like that about you.” She pauses for a second. “This may be forward, but I find your presence very soothing. You have such a…calm energy.”

I think there might be more so I wait. But Lena just gazes out the small window with a half-smile before closing the door gently. My heart pounds in my ears, and I feel deeply disoriented. I really need to start locking the door.

*

Sam didn’t speak for the entire soccer game. Well, that wasn’t quite accurate. Didn’t speak to Alex. Sam kept up a nonstop cheer for Ruby and her team. It wasn’t intended as a slight, Alex knew. She’d intruded on Sam’s personal time. It had to be respected. The box of donuts sat untouched until the half when Sam stuffed several into her mouth with a grin, powered sugar dotting the blanket in her lap.

Alex cheered too, but found herself distracted by Sam’s spirited yells whenever Ruby was within ten feet of the ball. Truthfully it was more than a little endearing. She’d always considered Sam quite pretty, but dressed in sweats, with her hair tousled and slightly damp from the misty morning, cheeks red from shouting… She looked even more attractive than with her make-up and pantsuit. Sam seemed to glow with a light that made her…something more than real. She exuded physicality and solidness, as if her shaped curved the air and formed the currents of wind on the field. Or as if she could mold a figure out of the damp earth and it would spring to life.

Gods, was she high? This wasn’t how it felt with Maggie, but it was a nice break from the melancholy she felt on her own.

Alex tried not to, but couldn’t stop herself from giggling at Sam’s more enthusiastic displays of pride, which led to slap battle that characterized the second half of the match.

“How’d I do mom?” Ruby asked brightly as she jogged over after the final whistle.

“Eh, it was alright,” Sam replied casually. “I mean, you only scored two goals. Frankly I expected more.”

“Mom!!”

“Your mom is being a jerk,” said Alex. “You were amazing, and she could not stop smiling the entire time.”

“Thanks Alex!” said Ruby. “What did you think of the game?”

“Well, I have to admit this is the first one of these I’ve ever been to but…” Alex crouched down and lowered her voice. “I think you were running circles around those boys out there.”

“Yeah I was,” agreed Ruby. “Mom, we’re going out for team lunch to celebrate. Can I go?”

“Sure hon,” Sam replied, handing Ruby a twenty dollar bill. “Be good!”

Alex watched Ruby dash off with a pang.

“It must be hard to let her go,” she said sympathetically.

“Well,” Sam said with a sigh, “nothing lasts forever. Not even this.”

“Wow, I didn’t realize that would get you so down,” Alex joked. “You’ve still got a few years before she goes off to college. And this field will be here long after we’re both gone.”

Sam gave Alex a strange look.

“Come on,” said Alex. “I still owe you a real apology and now I feel like I’ve brought you down. What can I do that will make you smile?”

“I…should really do some work.”

“No,” said Alex firmly. “No work today. In fact, I’m going to call Kara and we’re both going to take the day off.”

Alex felt Sam wavering, indecision wafting from her skin in orange and yellow hues. Alex shook her head quickly. Maybe she ate some bad food, this strange feeling around Sam seemed to be growing. But as long as it wasn’t making her sick, she would make things right and try to ignore the strange sensations.

“There’s this trail I haven’t been to in years…” Sam began.

“Hiking!” said Alex. “Done!”

*

I shouldn’t be doing this, but the longer I stay the easier it becomes. First Ruby, and now the old trail in Appalachia, or best I can reconstruct.

I can justify it, of course. Same as it’s easy to justify my previous session, where I learn how the system responds to warning signs of self-awareness. A shot of adrenaline, trigger an extreme emotional response; anger in this case, that elicits a mild amnesia. Followed by some pretty intense remorse.

Alex follows me eagerly, like a puppy. Her adrenaline withdrawal makes it easy to take control. We walk across the field, leaving the half-finished box of donuts with the blanket. We don’t need them and everything outside the bounds of my mind doesn’t exist right now.

Sunlight filters through the trees, the light drizzle of the soccer game gone. Bugs with wings like puddles of glossy oil buzz to the sides of the dirt trail, allowing us to pass unbothered.

“I didn’t even know this was here,” Alex remarks in astonishment.

“National City is full of hidden gems,” I say.

Slowly, in no hurry, we wind our way up the steep switchbacks. Footsteps indicate this is a well-traveled path but no one passes us. The forest ends suddenly across an open expanse, a bald as my grandfather taught me. The tops of all the mountains here are bare, affording perfect views for hundreds of miles on a clear day.

 The sun beats down as we climb the last few feet to the very peak overlooking National City. A picnic awaits us there, food that vanishes as soon as we hold it, although we both feel its energizing effect.

As soon as the meal is finished we lay back and time slips by effortlessly until the sun begins to dip low. Perhaps we talk, perhaps not. Our conversation is silent, occurring within the mind as we amiably discuss work and weather and all manner of innocuous topics. Alex naps in the late afternoon while I retreat to pick blackberries from the brambled bushes.

City lights shimmer below as the dimness slowly steals the leaves and grass of color, everything turning to shades of grey. I’m overwhelmed by the fullness of the scene Alex has let me build in her world. I want to thank her for this gift, this glimpse into another life. I want…

_I want to kiss her_.

*

Alex’s head pulsed, once, like the brief tightening then loosening of a vice. It wasn’t exactly painful but not entirely comfortable either.

Sam wanted to kiss her.

It wasn’t speculation, Alex _knew_. She snuck a quick glance at Sam. Sam smiled in return, thoughts hidden, but that _feeling_ , the _knowing_ of it remained clear.

The mountaintop flowed past Sam like a river around solid rock. She wasn’t just a person taking up physical space on the mountain, but its gravitational center. A thousand tiny images reflected off her smile, moving like pictures on a movie screen. Memories. Alex picked one.

The darkening sky began to shift. Neon blades of green and pink exploded from the skyline, moving in hypnotic patterns Alex had never seen but somehow knew to replicate. Beside her, Sam inhaled sharply and that knowing sensation returned to Alex. _The Northern lights_.

Alex felt as if she were a balloon, lightly tethered to the ground, yet simultaneously in perfect control. Thinking without thinking. It only worked if Alex focused her attention to the side of her target, like drawing out a 3-D image from an optical illusion.

The sky continued its patterns as the gravitation field between Alex and Sam began to inextricably pull their two masses together. Neither moved, but the distance between them decreased until they stood only inches apart. Alex leaned in slowly, drawn to Sam as much as she felt Sam drawn towards her. Cheeks brushed and then, hesitantly, lips.

Soft and delicate, like kissing the petals of a flower in early bloom, Alex wasn’t sure if it even happened. Sam stepped back, dazed, fingers hovering just above her lower lip.

Dancing lights overhead, all Alex wanted was another kiss to confirm that they had, in fact, just kissed and then to etch the feel of that kiss forever into her memory. The feel of kissing Sam.

Sam who was so beautiful, no matter her DNA or how she came to be.

Built synthetically, perhaps, strands spliced and rearranged but still human.

Maybe just a little different from other humans, just as Reign was different than other Kryptonians.

Could one rearrange DNA from human to Kryptonian?

Yes.

No.

Yes.

Alex took a step back, kiss forgotten.

If Reign could reconfigure herself into someone else when not active, someone human, she would be undetectable by the DEO. An ordinary person, living an ordinary life. Someone like Sam.


	6. Ten Years Ago

Alex’s lungs burned from the effort of running. It didn’t seem to matter how hard she tried, the shadowed figure always remained right on her tail. Nothing worked. She ducked through doors, surged impossibly fast in a desperate attempt to gain just the slightest advantage, throw her pursuer off course, find a moment to breathe.  She’d even jumped off the occasional ledge that appeared, plummeting into sure death because at a certain point death felt like a fair trade to get some relief. But after the terrifying nothingness, the fall that went on far too long, Alex always ended up where she’d started.

She didn’t know how long she’d been in the maze. Was there a time longer than eternity? There were respites from the shadow-man, but disturbing enough that it sent Alex back, wishing for the simplicity of the race she always lost. Her mother often featured in those bits. Alone and inevitably disappointed for reasons Alex couldn’t remember. She’d failed, that much she knew. But how or why?

And her father. Stocky with dark hair, but ever-changing motivations. He was her everything back in the days when Alex was small and he was still alive. Yet somehow she’d been fooled. He wasn’t the man she remembered, the gentle, jovial man of her youth; instead her father was revealed as a changeable, manipulative monster.

Today was no different.

“Why Alexandra, why?” her mother asked, lines furrowed at the corners of her mouth. “Why couldn’t you just listen? Get it right for a change.”

“I don’t know, mom,” Alex said, the familiar pulse of anger building behind her forehead. A yell that came from everywhere and nowhere ripped the room. Alex’s fist cracked against the baby blue wall of the living room as she pummeled everything within range. Tears blinded her but she didn’t need to see in order to know where to strike. She swung with all her might, shattering the lamp and leaving dents in the walls, but she felt nothing. Just a void of rage that would never end.

Alex fell to her knees and began to cry. Tears rose up to her waist and then past her shoulders. Alex leaned into the rising tide, letting it lift her feet off the ground. Trickles of salt water washed across her face as the gentle waves floated her away. The sky opened as if Alex were a present being unwrapped, walls falling to all sides to reveal the true expanse of the world. Alex stared at the dark sky, filled with a million sparkling stars, messages from other planets, light from worlds that had long since been extinguished. Messages from the past. Like the light of this world, shining into space, visible thousands of years after Alex’s journey had ended.

The salt of her tears mixed with that of the ocean.

Peace.

This must be how it felt in the vacuum of space.

Alex inhaled shakily. She closed her eyes and let herself slip beneath the surface, the image of the night sky the last thing she wanted to remember.

The nothingness came like the void of a sky in which every star had burned out.

The end.

A low hum filled the air. There shouldn’t be any noise here.

Black turned to shades of grey, and fuzzy, indistinguishable shapes. Alex blinked, or rather, tried to blink. Heavy gunk coated her eyes. A bit of salt washed in and stung sharply.

Alex coughed and _felt_ it, a scratchy texture, high in her throat. She tipped her head back. More salt, still stinging, but also helping by clearing the gunk from her obscured vision. Alex blinked again, and for the first time in almost two years, opened her eyes.

*

I close my eyes. Something about the moment just after waking, when the last of the night’s dreams are still fresh never fails to terrify. Likely it’s the thought of the others, the ones that never get to wake. I see them sometimes, or their outline anyways, as I am led away from the false safety of the group towards the Ceremony stage. I wonder if they dream about that day as well. I wonder if their dreams are as tortured as my own.

I have no right to call them bad dreams truthfully. As I retreat from the group my guide lets me know the truth, I’m headed for the Ceremony. At the Ceremony, I’m selected by T.I. – the Technology Institute – the unquestioned best school for science and technology. My parents are thrilled. Even to this day, they never miss a chance to name-drop their daughter’s school and talk proudly of the day I join them at BankCo.

But a job is still two years away. Of more concern is the impeding deadline for my study focus in three weeks. My parents expect me to choose finance. There’s no reason not to. In my first year and half I’ve tried a little bit of everything T.I. has to offer, as they encourage. Not much has stood out, except for the eccentric Professor McShane that heads up the psychology department.

My inbox populates with all the emails and notices for the day, but one stands out. A direct message from Professor McShane. I open that one first.

_Sam – I was chatting with a former colleague and he’s got an interesting proposition for you. If you can join me for lunch there may be a very prestigious offer in your future. Let’s not have your bright mind go to waste moving money around._

I have to laugh at his unsubtle dig. Professor McShane knows just what to say.

“Sam!” cries McShane, extending his arms. “So pleased you could make it! I’m delighted to introduce you to an old school chum of mine. This is Dave Bailey – you can just call him Bailey – and he works at Neural Net.”

I’m sure my eyes go wide at that.

“Mr. Bailey,” I say extending a hand.

“As Tom said, just Bailey is fine.” Bailey seems much younger than McShane, but possibly it’s just the lack of facial hair. His light hazel eyes take me in with a sharpness that betrays obvious intelligence. I wish I’d thought to wear something a bit nicer than my school hoodie.

“Tom, or Professor McShane to you, tells me that you are the brightest student he’s seen in his class in years,” says Bailey. “That’s quite the compliment.”

“I’m sure that’s not true. Professor McShane’s classes are some of the best I’ve taken at T.I. It would be hard to not do well.”

“Oh, you were right Tom! This one knows all about the art of flattery. That’s worth its weight in gold,” Bailey says with a wink.

“Sam here’s got heart,” adds McShane. “All too rare with the batches they’ve got coming through these days. Sure, they solve match problems and jump hurdles at record speeds, but half of them are soulless. Nothing more than robots. Why isn’t there a component of the Test that makes sure we’re getting the human ones?” asks McShane.

Bailey eyes his friend. “Careful what you say and how loudly, Tom.”

McShane waves his hand as if batting an errant fly. Bailey cocks an eyebrow before turning his attention back to me.

“Sam, I hear you’re destined for finance,” he says. “What would it take to change your mind?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t really thought about computer science…”

“Computer science?” asks Bailey.

“Yeah,” I say, suddenly feeling very unsure. “Professor McShane said you were with Neural Net.”

“I am,” Bailey says.

“Psychology?”

“Told you she was one of the good ones,” McShane says approvingly.

Bailey lowers his voice, hazel eyes down at the table. “Some computer science will be required, of course, for the sake of appearances. But mainly, I’m interested in those with a more, as your professor would say, human aptitude. Individuals that don’t forget the power source behind Neural Net.”

Involuntarily I shiver.

Bailey winks and slaps a hand down on the table, a sudden crack that contrasts sharply with his lowered tone of a moment ago.

“Tom, it was a pleasure. Sam, let’s keep in touch. Should you find yourself declaring something other than finance in the next couple weeks, I think you can expect to be hearing from Neural Net about a job offer.”

Bailey extends a hand and numbly I shake. McShane beams.

What the hell just happened?

*

It was a nightmare. That was the only explanation.

Alex must have fallen asleep and now she was dreaming about being trapped inside a clear plastic coffin, floating in saline like a spare contact lens.

The plastic didn’t budge as Alex slammed her hand against it again and again. Over the pounding she almost missed the muffled sound.

“Help me!”

Alex paused. The cry came again.

With effort, Alex sat partway up in her coffin-like container. A young woman, probably three, maybe four years younger than Alex spun around in a similar contraption of her own until her eyes connected with Alex’s.

“Are you awake?” the young girl asked frantically. “Everyone here is asleep. Are you awake?”

Was this a nightmare? Or was the maze the nightmare? All she could recall was running, then her mother and the house that filled with seawater and…

_Was_ she awake?

“I think so. It’s going to be ok,” Alex added, possibly more for her own benefit than the girl’s. “I’m going to get us out of here. What’s your name?”

The girl brushed long strands of wet blonde hair out of her face.

“Kara Zor–”

Just then, a much louder noise interrupted. Kara cowered inside the clear container. Deep voices echoed across the room, overpowering the white noise buzz of machines spaced periodically throughout the large room.

“Kara, listen to me,” Alex said, rotating as close as she could to the young girl. “You are strong, and you are going to get through this. I’ll stay with you and keep you safe – do you believe me?”

Kara’s eyes darted back towards the approaching voices.

“Do you believe me, Kara?” Alex asked again.

Kara burst into tears, her horrible, wracking sobs making Alex’s chest ache.

“My parents are gone,” Kara sobbed. “Crimes against the state. They said I would be ok, but I’m not. I’m here and I don’t know what’s happening or anyone…”

“I’m Alex, ok? Alex Danvers. And Kara, I never had a sister, but from here on out you’re my sister, you got that? And I don’t leave anyone behind.”

Kara’s sobs subsided as she nodded.

“Over here!” called a voice. Footfalls grew louder and several forms in head to toe yellow suits approached.

“Shit, we’ve got two of them.”

“Just dose’em and let’s go,” responded another yellow figure. “This place gives me the creeps.”

One of the yellow figures punched a button on the side of the monitor. A blue light flashed a couple times before holding a solid blue glow. The figure pushed the nozzle into a slot and efficiently spun around to Kara’s pod. The top lifted and a needle on the end of the nozzle sank into Kara’s arm.

“I’ve got you,” Alex mouthed to Kara. Kara’s eyes went wide just before rolling back as she dropped into the clear liquid.

The blue light flashed again and the figure loaded a second needle.

“Don’t you dare…” Alex muttered. As soon as this top opened…

The plastic parted and Alex rolled, simultaneously kicking and punching the figure. Or that’s what should have happened. Instead, her muscles groaned with disuse and she felt the pinch in her bicep before her out-of-practice limbs could respond. She was asleep before the saline washed back over her face.

The strange experience of finding a sister named Kara trapped in a pod faded into nothing but another dream.


	7. Day 5

“Supergirl,” Alex said, walking swiftly through the DEO. “We need to talk.”

Kara’s forehead crinkled. “That’s never how good conversations begin,” she remarked.

“Follow me,” Alex said, ignoring the jab. Better for others at the DEO to think Supergirl was in hot water than find out the truth about Reign. About Sam. For all Kara’s hot-headedness she would never harm Sam. Even if it meant an easy fix to their Reign problem.

Alex shut the door to the lab tight, turning to face Supergirl with crossed arms.

Kara mirrored the stance, corners of her mouth turned down.

“Come on, Alex, what’d I do? You’re making me nervous.”

“It’s not you,” Alex said. “But I have something very important to tell you and I need you to swear you will not tell J’onn. Or anyone else.”

Kara’s frown deepened for a second. She nodded.

“I swear. I trust you.”

“Good.” Alex took a breath. “Sam is Reign. I don’t even think she knows it. But I’ve been helping her out with some medical issues…blackouts specifically. I knew there was a connection, but this morning I confirmed it.”

Alex moved to the laptop and played a short video. Strands of molecules with sections highlighted in pink, orange, and blue twisted and untwisted, falling apart and coming back together into double-stranded DNA that featured predominantly blues and greens with the occasional purple.

“I don’t get it,” Kara said.

“Notice how different the starting and ending DNA is?” Alex asked. “That’s because the first one is Sam’s human DNA. But when exposed to a certain frequency wave, it recombinates into different DNA. Kryptonian DNA.”

“So…Reign is Sam,” said Kara slowly.

“Yes.”

Pause.

“We have to bring her in. Keep her in holding.”

“Absolutely not,” said Alex.

“You’ve said it yourself Alex, Reign is too big a threat for us to get sentimental over tactics. She broke your leg without even engaging you directly and nearly killed me the last time we fought. We have to get her into holding. It’s the only way.”

“No!” said Alex. “This is Sam we’re talking about. She doesn’t know and I don’t want to find out what telling her would do. It could cause her to turn into Reign, permanently. We don’t know enough about why this is happening or who is controlling it.”

Kara’s throat bobbed and Alex could sense her wavering.

“Fine,” said Kara, re-crossing her arms. “What do you suggest then?”

“I need time,” Alex said. “I think I can develop a serum that will stabilize her DNA in its human configuration. In the meantime, we stay close to her at all times, act like everything is normal. We take shifts. If we’re with Sam, Reign can’t show up without us knowing.”

Alex paused.

“Are you ok with this? I mean, can you still be cool around Sam? I know Reign is the only one who has ever beat–”

“It’s fine,” Kara interrupted. “I can handle it. It’s you I worry about.”

Kara’s hard expression melted into a smile. Relief washed over Alex. She was right to trust Kara. Kara wouldn’t hurt Sam. They would find another way. Together, like always. She embraced her sister, squeezing tightly.

“Thanks Kara.”

“Hey, you were there for me when I needed it. This is the least I can do for you.”

They stepped back, suddenly aware of the people that might be watching through the partially frosted windows to the lab.

“Where is Sam now?” Kara asked.

A knock on the door made Alex start.

“Sorry to interrupt,” said Agent Vasquez. “But we’ve had a sighting of Reign at CatCo.”

*

I suppress the urge to groan. Another faller. All the time I’ve spent with Alex has given me a new appreciation for how much better her dreamscape is than the ones the default setting seems to create. I’ve been waiting for this one to break the loop where she drives over the highway railing for an hour now.

I shut off the monitor in frustration. Lena will expect a status report soon and I have nothing to show for all the special equipment and treatment I’ve received. These subjects are more difficult to engage than expected.

 _You mean more difficult than Alex_.

Right. Alex who is dying for connection. So much so that she created her own family in the void. So much that she found a way to snake her consciousness through the wires, transforming ones and zeros into an electrical impulse that synchronized with another unit.

Alex’s heightened awareness makes her a far more interesting subject than these units. She highlights the real possibilities behind Neural Net’s technology, something far more compelling than energy or computational power. Her alternate reality is like a drug, calling to me, promising that high of invincibility and supercharged emotion. Imagine how well that kind of product would sell. And maybe, just maybe, customers would find themselves in the position of paying Neural Net to harvest a bit of energy off the top. Now _that’s_ an idea I can sell to Lena Luthor.

 _Ok, you win Sam_.

I’m going back in. But only for research.

This will be strictly observation, nothing more.

*

The top floor of CatCo looked like a bomb went off. Desks knocked over, paper and office supplies scattered across the floor, ceiling tiles upended and dangling. In the center of it all, Reign.

Alex led the DEO team up the stairs. Supergirl would meet them. With any luck, Reign would be distracted by Supergirl long enough for them to get the kryptonite cannon loaded, their best shot at neutralizing Reign. As Alex rounded the final corner, concrete rained down from above.

Great. Supergirl and Reign had taken the fight to the sky.

_Cause that ends well._

Skip the negativity, they needed action.

“Set it up here,” Alex called. Hopefully Kara could get Reign close enough that the shot wouldn’t be completely useless.

Alex’s heart pounded steady, if a bit quicker than usual, the reminder she was in the field. She moved with precision, those years of training kicking in.

Supergirl wasn’t looking great; her form was falling apart, a sure sign of exhaustion. Taking aim, Alex raised her firearm and shot. She couldn’t tell if she hit, for Reign didn’t react, instead cleanly deflecting Supergirl’s attack and wrenching her wrist to the side. Based upon the expression on Kara’s face something must have snapped. Definitely not a good sign.

Alex fired again, this time striking the hand that held Supergirl’s broken fist. Jet black eyes turned and found Alex’s hiding position immediately. Alex’s heart leapt from her chest up to her throat as she fumbled with the gun. Reign moved with impossible quickness. The gun flew from her hands as Alex went crashing into the whiteboard on the wall behind her.

“Sam…” she managed. The blood rushed in her ears, drowning out all else. “Sam, come out of there.”

The dark grey fist rose and struck. The taste of iron filled her mouth as Alex spat dark rivulets of blood. It spattered across the clean white tiled floor of CatCo, smearing, as if someone were attempting to wipe it away but instead making the pattern appear even more grotesque, more violent.

“Sam…”

Alex’s voice sounded far away, as if it originated outside of her body. The fist struck again and Alex’s vision went red. Footsteps of steel. Kara. She wasn’t bleeding, but she didn’t look good, even ignoring the twisted hand held to her side.

Reign didn’t appear to have a scratch. The webbed mask shielded Sam’s features and contorted her expression into terrifying indifference. She was relentless. Alex lay broken on the floor as the battle fell apart before her eyes.

 _Sam_.

She didn’t even have the energy to say it aloud, so instead Alex closed her eyes and tried to find her with her mind, the way she’d been able to feel and connect with Sam on the mountaintop. She opened her eyes suddenly with a spark of clarity.

This Sam, or Reign or whatever, was hollow. She lacked Sam’s physical form, sensation of occupied space. Even on a second glance her features changed, like Sam but also like the shadow-man, or the face of a stranger, or her third-grade science teacher.

Coughing blood, Alex stiffly rose to her feet. Everything about this was wrong. She signaled to the DEO team.

_Fire._

She should be worried about Kara, still engaged with Reign in close quarters, who would feel the effects of the kryptonite blast as well. Except she wouldn’t. Alex couldn’t articulate why, she just _knew_. Alex could encase Supergirl in a protective shell, one that not even kryptonite could pierce. CatCo, the DEO agents, even Reign… They all flickered under close examination, internal structures and mechanisms revealed to be half-formed, more impressions than anything. The closer Alex looked, the more the frayed edges showed.

She picked up one of the loose papers that somehow continued to flutter about. Blank. The coffee cup on the ground was empty as well; and from the looks of it, had never been filled with coffee. Props. This entire office filled with nothing but props of what an office should be.

Alex moved towards the hole Reign and Kara had made in the wall. A strong breeze pushed her inside the building, away from the open blue sky and air-brushed buildings and street below. A nameless instinct seemed to drive her forward. If objects could be malleable, what about distance? Where were the edges of this world?

Alex’s foot slid over the broken edge, the toe of her shoe floating free in space.

“Alex!” Kara stared at her, horrified. The green blast of kryptonite exploded, knocking Kara and Reign backwards. The energy struck Alex painlessly, but propelled her out through the opening and with a sickening return to reality Alex was falling. Fast.

*

For a second I think I entered the wrong unit coordinates. Maybe my hand slipped and I’m back on one of the faller’s modules. But this world is too bright and shiny, and the CatCo sign peeking over the top of the building is the final clue.

I’ve been hit with…something. It’s hard to breathe but I can still fly and so I dive as fast as possible to catch Alex, to save her from certain death.

Death is different in dreams, of course. I’ve seen enough death to know. It wouldn’t be permanent. Alex would return, again and again until her physical vessel finally gave out. But her world would die. She’d have to start over in the void’s default program, build National City anew if she can. I can’t let her lose everything she’s created here. Or what I’ve created here.

She lands in my arms and we tumble across the light peach-colored sheets, I’m not sure how much time has passed. Alex giggles as she wrestles me down, claiming her victor’s kiss with a smug expression. The sheets glow in the early morning light, the entire room pale pink and orange. Alex pulls the sheet over our heads and we tumble further into our hideaway, retreating from the world. My heart jumps into my throat as I realize there is nothing between my skin and hers.

“We shouldn’t do this,” I whisper.

“Why not?” she responds, breath hot against my ear.

“What if I have to go?”

“What if you stayed?” Alex replies.

“What if next time, I’m not back before…” I can’t finish. It’s too bad to contemplate.

 _You did this_.

I’ve literally created a monster. In a mere twenty hours I’ve inserted myself into Alex’s world to such an extent that without being neurally connected, Reign will appear. And Reign will do exactly what I designed her to – create stressful situations to drive unit AA3578’s energy production. It’s a scenario that ends one way.

“What if, what if,” Alex repeats teasingly. “What if none of this is real?”

“What??”

I push back in alarm.

“It was a joke,” Alex says, rolling her eyes. “You need to relax. As it happens, I’ve got some ideas on that.”

Warmth radiates off Alex’s body as she lowers herself back on top of me, a hand tracing the curve of my earlobe down my chin. My brain buzzes, higher functions shutting down as all I can sense is Alex’s touch, her scent, and embarrassingly, my own scent.

“Ideas…?” I repeat. Her eyes draw me in deeper until I’m surrounded by their warm dark chocolate.

“Lots,” Alex promises just before her lips envelope my own.

*

Sam didn’t remember any of it, just as Alex expected. Truthfully, Alex’s memory was a bit hazy as well. The kryptonite cannon went off, she remembered that much. A solid hit on Reign. Kara managed to shield herself from the majority of the blast, she would recover quickly under the DEO’s sun lamp.

Alex’s memory skipped from the blast to the DEO, where she watched over Kara until her sister came to. Once certain that Kara would recover, Alex brought Sam’s unconscious form to her place. She’d barely won that argument with J’onn. But Alex was increasingly certain that the more time Sam spent in her Reign form, the more likely that would become permanent. And somehow she knew that being near Sam would keep her Sam.

“What happened?”

Alex spun around. Sam sat up from the couch and looked around intently, as if studying the space.

“You caught me,” Alex said. The sensation of falling came to her, but freedom more than terror with the hindsight of knowing Sam would be there.

“I shouldn’t have left,” Sam said.

“You couldn’t help it,” Alex said. “Just stay with me now.”

“I’m afraid what might happen. I’m afraid when I fall asleep…”

Alex crossed the living room in record time, grasping Sam by cheeks and kissing her forehead, temples, nose, and lips. In her eyes Alex saw fear.

“You are Sam Arias,” Alex said. “You are not the monster. I am going to help you get free of Reign. Do you believe me?”

Sam inhaled sharply, her eyes filled with tears. Slowly she nodded. The thread between them drew tighter, pulling Alex to Sam. This was _her_ Sam, the solid, calming presence that made Alex feel as if the rest of the world was nothing more than a faded photograph.

They lay together under the sheets for what might have been hours after they were both spent, wordless time during which they communicated solely by touch. Their bodies were uncomfortably warm, but neither one wanted to break contact. Sam’s lids began to droop and then fell, her breathing slowing. Alex pulled back the cover for some fresh air. She stroked Sam’s head slowly and the darkened bedroom faded into someplace new.

Alex stood off the bed as if walking into a dream. A desk on the opposite wall with a laptop, a large monitor and a couple other machines Alex had never seen. An adjoining bathroom and breakfast nook, the entire apartment sparse yet messy.

Huh.

She walked through the door into a hallway. Rooms lined the left-hand side with windows and common area spaces alternating along the right. Her feet moved without thought, as if she’d done this a million times before. Sidewalk lined with trees, leaves of late autumn brown that crunched underfoot. Her path turned across the first major street, leading to a modern-looking building with a silver exterior and clear double-doors, prominently labeled. The white letters came into focus suddenly, just before the sensors underfoot opened the threshold. Alex took a second look as she entered.

Regional Energy Improvement

Then under that:

Ganglion Network

A memory of a dream she’d had years ago tickled the back of Alex’s mind. But something else jumped out more immediately.

R – E – I – G – N

Reign.

Figures in lab coats zipped up and down the hallways, heads firmly fixated on the tablets they all carried. In the corner of a room a familiar figure twitched in a chair, thin metal band around her head with white lights that flickered in a pattern too complex to identify.

Alex stared.

“Sam?”

*

The sound of my own name on my lips jolts me awake. Was that my voice, or the voice of…someone else? The sole lamp buzzes with the low hum of electricity. The clock blares the late hour in stark red. It’s nearly one in the morning. What the hell am I doing?

My body feels jittery with adrenaline and exhaustion, as if I’ve been chugging coffee all night instead of sleeping. Working. Sleeping on the job. The thought makes me giggle, a high-pitched noise that chokes into a snort. Maybe I’m coming down with something.

My forehead is damp where neural band rests. Some hairs caught beneath the fabric have left tiny tiger stripes that are a great addition to my blotchy face.

 _Get some sleep_. Nothing in the world sounds better.

When I close my eyes, I see that image again. Alex gazing at me from underneath the sheets, that slight knowing smile on her lips, drawing me into her eyes.

It’s a blank after that. An unusual bit of dreamless sleep. A good sign I think.


	8. Day 6

The cursor blinks against the white screen. I have to get this done. The flag in my task list has turned from yellow to orange to bright red. God, I hate deadlines.

It’s not just the deadline that has me paralyzed. My authorized research has taken a sharp left turn into a potential new business venture. Proposing that kind of idea to Lena Luthor – not something to take lightly. She’s ended careers over less. With a sigh I begin.

_While most units remain in the default setting for their natural life, this setting is far inferior to the units that are able to transcend into original neural coding. I have focused my study on one unit in particular I shall refer to as “X.” X has the unique distinction of having developed a rich network of experiences within the somniostatic state that allow for manipulation and maximization of energy potential._

_X’s framework appears exceptionally flexible, able to readily incorporate new and conflicting information and make necessary corrections. The unit also exhibits flexibility in mitigating self-awareness. When on the path to articulation, X’s programming released biochemicals to induce a hyper-emotive response creating temporal dysphoria and thus amnesia of the predicating pattern…_

_The richness of the experience as a visitor, as well as the unit’s protectiveness from self-realization provides a potential new source of revenue and services for Neural Net for which I believe merits further exploration…_

I lean back and study what I’ve written. It’s a start.

The laptop closes with a snap and I stumble over to bed. A few hours until morning when I’ll edit and send my full status report off to Lena.

I hang the cleaned neural band off the edge of my unused monitor.

“Till morning,” I say to the band. I imagine Alex standing there, returning my promise.

Till morning, she says. Hopefully Reign stays away.

*

Alex’s heart pounded. Sam still slept soundly beside her, but a touch was all it took to know that somehow, she was no longer there. This Sam was hollow, an echo. Nothing like the vivacious, whip-smart, so _alive_ Sam that made Alex feel like a teenager.

“Sam,” Alex whispered with a gentle shake. Maybe she could bring her back. “Sam!”

The figure started and spun towards her, eyes dilating as they focused, a breathy gasp as Sam’s spirit flooded back, body fully inhabited again.

“What’s wrong?” Sam swept a hand up to brush back her loose hair and regarded Alex curiously. The sheet fell as she propped herself up and Alex leaned forward, letting her hand trace the curves of Sam’s hip, waist, and breast. The touch brought back memories of the night before. The way Sam’s skin tasted, the way she smelled, and then those images. The visions of Sam someplace else. A dream maybe, but Alex couldn’t say if it was hers or Sam’s.

“I had the craziest dream,” Alex said.

“You dream here?” Sam asked, cocking her head in surprise.

_Here_.

“Of course I dream. Don’t you?”

The question seemed to throw Sam.

“Well, yeah. I just…never mind. It was a stupid question. What happened in your dream?”

“I saw you,” Alex said.

Sam’s cheeks colored. “I’m flattered.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

Alex’s voice grew cold as the sterile room she’d seen. She stood on the brink of something. Before a wall built of stone, blocking her view. Sam was blocking her. But why? Sam clearly liked her, so what was she hiding?

“Sam, what is the Regional Energy Improvement Ganglion Network?”

As quickly as the color had risen in Sam’s face it drained away. Alex pressed against the wall with her mind and felt it give, just slightly.

_Neural Net_.

“Neural Net?” said Alex. “But you work for L-Corp. For Lena.”

Sam blinked rapidly.

“I…I do,” she said in surprise. “I didn’t think you knew that.”

“Of course I knew that,” Alex scoffed. “We’ve had drinks together. You’re in finance.”

Sam’s eyes widened.

“Finance?” she repeated.

“Yeah. Why are you acting like this?”

“Like what?”

“Like you don’t know your own life story,” Alex said in frustration.

“You shouldn’t be able to access that information,” Sam said. She seemed to be admonishing someone not present.

“This is all stuff you told me,” Alex said. “What is Neural Net? Come on Sam! I’m trying to help you!”

“Help _me_? _I_ don’t need help.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” asked Alex sharply. She reached, focusing all her energy on Sam. _Tell me the truth_.

Sam stared at Alex for several seconds before dropping her gaze.

“Unit number AA3578,” she said.

“What?”

“You. That’s your serial number. You are part of the Neural Net, or Regional Energy Improvement Ganglion Network if you want to be precise about it.”

Sam raised her eyes back to Alex.

“You’ve been in a medically induced sleep state for the past twelve years, Alex. This, all of it. This city, apartment, the DEO… None of this is real.”

Sam paused.

“Except for us, I guess.”

*

The bedroom vanishes and we are on the street, in the heart of National City. All around, the buildings, bridges, the skyscraper of CatCo begin to fold, shredding like paper, crumbling into dust.

“Alex STOP!”

Instantly the scene freezes as Alex slowly turns her head back to me, huge cracks in the street, blocks of concrete falling from buildings, and fissures in the sky.

“You have to hold it together,” I plead. “This world…this is yours. Don’t you see how amazing that is? If you let this fall apart, it won’t be good.”

“Why? What happens then? You reboot me?” asks Alex sarcastically.

“Yes,” I say. It tumbles out unexpectedly. The truth. I feel too late Alex’s influence. Her world. Her rules. I’m caught in a mental vice grip in which I cannot lie.

Alex walks up and thrusts a finger into my chest.

“Tell me what happens,” she demands. The still cracks and rubble quake slightly. My feet are frozen in place and I’m unable to move enough to disconnect.

“They’ll wipe you,” I say. “A series of electric shocks to wipe out the memories you’ve established since going under. Then a sedative. A powerful one that is given to new units to suppress the formation of any short-term memory from just prior to the procedure. Finally, if your brain is still functioning, they will reconnect you. You’ll start in the default dreamscape. It’s not pleasant. Most people never make it out of there.”

Alex is quiet for a long time. I wonder if she’s forgotten. Maybe another natural failsafe has kicked in.

“So it was all a dream?”

I still can’t move.

“Not quite. You took ideas from your life and made them real.”

Alex lets out a small half-laugh.

“Maggie?”

My chest tightens.

“Maggie was real,” Alex says scrutinizing my face. “I knew she was different. Where is she? What did you do to her?”

I shake my head. “She’s gone, Alex. They tried a reboot and…well…”

A scream rips forth from Alex’s gut, the cry of a cornered and wounded feral beast. Miraculously she doesn’t split her world in two right then.

“And Ruby?” she yells, eyes flashing with anger. “Is there even a Ruby? Something you love that I can destroy?”

The back of my throat closes. It’s getting hard to breathe.

“Yes. I mean no.”

“Well which is it? Yes? No?” repeats Alex sarcastically.

“She’s gone,” I say. “And I think I should go too.”

It takes all my concentration but I move one hand up to my temple, disconnecting from Alex’s module. I throw the neural band across the room, taking care that it will land on the couch where the impact will be cushioned. I’ll clean the damn thing later. For now, I lay my head down on my desk and let myself cry.

*

Alex couldn’t breathe. Sam and everything she knew vanished as Alex floated, alone in the vacuum of space.

No, no, no.

This was hers. She would make it hers. Alex concentrated, pushing the intrusive thoughts of Sam aside. The comforting walls of the DEO solidified around her, complete with agents attentively walking from room to room. The same three agents, Alex now noted. So much for the hundreds of DEO agents at their disposal.

Alex stared out the large window that overlooked National City. Another ret-con. Vaguely she recalled a darker, grimier DEO before she replaced it with this brighter, cleaner version. How many other adjustments had she made mid-stream to accommodate what she wanted?

“You look unusually contemplative.”

Alex jumped. J’onn stood with his hands behind his back, a goofy grin on his face. He would get a kick out of sneaking up on her, even at a time like this. His expression changed as he took Alex in.

“Can I ask what’s bothering you?” he said.

Alex shrugged. “I’m not even sure I could explain.”

Who was J’onn? Another imaginary person or someone she’d met before? Did it even matter? Alex buried her head in her hands and groaned.

“J’onn, can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” he said.

“Is it possible to confuse dreaming with reality? Or vice versa?”

J’onn arched a single eyebrow.

“Not the question I expected,” he said. “But yes, I suppose it’s possible. I think we’ve all had dreams that felt real. The emotion you feel in dreams in real, and in the end we are defined more by our emotional experience than the physical, which is by its very nature, fleeting.”

“Then how can you tell?” Alex asked. “How do you know which is real and which is the dream?”

“You wake up,” he said. “We always wake up from our dreams.”

J’onn expression softened into a paternal gaze as he patted Alex on the back.

“Trust your gut, Alex. I know you’ll figure it out.”

*

“Sam,” Lena says, standing and greeting me by the door. “I’m so glad you could stop by.”

I enter the pristine office, my exhaustion overcoming the anxiety I should probably feel. At least this time I’m not being surprised.

“Not a problem. I assume you wanted to talk with me about the status report I submitted.”

“Not wasting any time, as usual,” Lena says with a smile. “You assume correctly. Your report was immensely interesting. However, I noticed you declined to mention the unit by serial number. Knowing you, that was intentional, so I have to ask…why?”

“To avoid contamination,” I reply. “I want the other analysts and technicians at Neural Net to treat the subject like any other.”

Lena tilts her head slightly.

“It’s ballsy to refuse to give your CEO that information,” she remarks. “But I see your point. For the time being you may keep the serial number confidential. As your study progresses though, I expect to be informed.”

“Of course, ma’am. Lena,” I correct.

Lena chuckles, leaning forward.

“You’ve been working so hard,” Lena says. “I’m afraid I’ve kept you rather busy. Why don’t you come out with me tonight? There’s a social in the Darwin building. We could have a drink.”

Subtly her expression shifts as she extends a hand. The memory of Alex, her hot skin against mine, breath panting roughly in my ear comes to me suddenly and I swallow hard.

This could be something real. But it’s not right, it’s not what I want. I want Alex. I need her strength, her warm, powerful psyche to embrace me.

“I can’t,” I stutter.

“Oh,” says Lena, retracting her hand smoothly. “My mistake.”

“It’s fine.” I can barely see through my embarrassment and stumble out of headquarters, back across the corporate campus to my apartment. The neural band taunts me from its perch.

_Alex hates you now_.

I can’t believe I just turned down Lena Luthor because I’m hung up on a dream. A fantasy. I open a game on my laptop but solitaire feels too depressing. I’m about to turn it off when a small box pops up in the corner of my screen.

_Alex Danvers would like to chat. Accept? Y/N_

With a gasp I close the laptop. It makes sense but I’ve never seen it happen before. The minds are the literal basis of our processing power. In a crass sense, Alex lives inside my computer. Naturally she could communicate that way. Maybe she doesn’t hate me after all.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I slip the neural band over my head, leaning back against the couch. The walls melt away and I’m spinning at the center of the world. A hand gently reaches for my own and Alex and I stare at each other.

“I was hoping you’d come,” Alex says softly. “There’s something I need to show you…”

“Alex,” I whisper. “I’m sor–”

“Shh…” she says.

Her eyes don’t leave my own as the ground rises into a wide twisting staircase. Salt water laps at our feet as Alex guides me up. The sky changes from purple to blue to orange and pink as we ascend to Alex’s home in the clouds, an impossible castle-style building with spires tucked behind the puffy peaks. I’ve seen this exact image before, from my favorite book as a child. Alex has pulled this from my mind and made it real. I feel her hands on my cheeks as she steps in front of me.

“I love you Sam,” she says. “The way I feel…I know that’s real, and that’s all that matters. I built this for you. For us.”

Her hand brushes my hairline and we don’t even have to move to find ourselves inside. Clear walls on all sides provide the dreamlike sensation of floating between the sea and sky, between night and day. For a brief, perfect moment there is no reality, no dream world. There is nothing but us, a single unified body of energy, melting into each other.

Alex lays silently beside me, watching the twisting constellations revolve and collide as we sit on the edge of dawn. Waves of the night crash on the shore below.

“What is it like to wake up?” Alex asks suddenly.

“I don’t know,” I say.

“What does it feel like?” Alex presses.

“It feels like…” How to explain it? I close my eyes and imagine that moment.

“When I wake up, in the span of less than a second I see everything in the world, that has ever been and ever will be. I see the universe explode into being, a nameless spark that begins life, the slow growth of life, its spread across the world, the way it overwhelms everything and the final fizzle that ends it all,” I say. “I see how small my life is, how meaningless, how powerful, how profound it is that I exist at all.”

Alex stares at me in wonder. I’m rambling. I duck my head to hide the blush.

“That’s waking up.”

“It can’t be all bad,” Alex says wryly. “Then you get to live.”

I shrug.

“Sure. If you call working a life.”

“That can’t be all you do,” Alex says, rolling onto her side.

“It is,” I say. “You already know I work for a company called Neural Net. I live in an apartment they own. I eat in their dining hall and attend the required corporate events. I haven’t left the campus in three years. Work is all I do. It’s all I have.”

I swallow hard. I feel so exposed telling Alex about my pathetic real life. I wish I could be the Sam Arias she knows. The one she loves.

Alex smiles slightly, sad expression on her face.

“Maybe you don’t have to be alone,” she says.

“What do you mean?”

Alex bites her lip but I hear her thought as clearly as if she says it aloud.

_Maybe you could wake me up._


	9. Three Years Ago

“Samantha,” my mother says in greeting. She does so with the slightest wrinkling of her nose that lets me know I’ve disappointed her again. Maybe it’s my decision to wear slacks instead of a dress, or lack of boyfriend, or the fact that there is too much black in my outfit. I will never ask and she will never tell me. It’s the best compromise we’ve achieved after a lifetime of disagreement.

My father manages to be even less demonstrative, acknowledging my presence with a mere nod. Twenty-six years and this man still feels like a stranger.

Behind them, Ruby wiggles with barely restrained delight. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from bursting out laughing. She looks out of place in a cream dress with puffy sleeves and lace frills more fit for an eight-year old than someone turning sixteen later this year.

“Hey Rube,” I say. Ruby squeals and bolts into my waiting arms, knocking me back several feet.

My mother grits her teeth.

I endure these visits solely for Ruby’s sake. My younger sister by eleven years, I feel more like a parent to her than sibling. I can’t wait for her to pass the Test (fingers crossed!) when we can again catch up unaccompanied by our parents. Passing the Test is never a sure thing, but Ruby’s well positioned given the early testing date afforded our family and her stellar soccer skills. Pro teams have already been scouting her games. There’s even talk of her testing a year or two early, a special accommodation made for individuals with particularly impressive talent.

I tussle her unruly hair and she gives a shake and growl. A throwback to when she was a baby and I used to pretend she was the puppy I wanted more than a sister.

“Girls!” my mother admonishes. “A little dignity please!”

“No one cares,” I say.

Despite my parents’ formal attire everyone else is dressed casually. Even I’m slightly overdressed compared to the average person here. I’m sure my mother is adding my selection of restaurant to the list of things I’ve done wrong.

“So dear, how is work?” asks my mother once we’re seated.

“Seen a Luthor yet?” my father cracks. “Obviously not, cause you look awake to me!” It’s a joke he’s been telling since I started at Neural Net and it wasn’t funny the first time. I ignore him.

“It’s fine,” I say.

“Fine? That’s it?” she presses. “Promotion in the offing? You’ve been an analyst for a while now. Are you looking to move into management?”

Not even a little bit.  

“Oh yeah, there’s just not much there right now,” I say.

Our food arrives blissfully fast, another reason I choose this particular site for dinner. As much as I want to see Ruby, I increasingly can’t bear the presence of my parents, who talk only of my rank in the company and when I’m going to find a nice boy to settle down with.

“I could go for some hot sauce,” I say.

Ruby jumps in at our code word.

“Mom, dad, did I tell you about the scouts confirmed for the championship game?”

I wink at her and she shoots me a sideways grin. Ruby gesticulates with energy as she chats about the championship game a month out. My mother catches my eye and frowns. She must be on to us. I’m going to have to face the inevitable relationship questions later. My insides cringe.

It’s not that I don’t date. I do, sort of. It’s just they tend to be pretty uninspiring dates that go on two, three times before I decide I’m just too bored with the concept. I’d rather sit alone in my apartment with a good book than struggle through another forced conversation. And whenever anyone says that’s how relationships work, I can’t help thinking about how different it was with Jacquie.

Jacquie, who I meet through the university’s online ad board when I decide to move off-campus for my senior year, not realizing it would be the coldest winter on record and the apartment heat would have an unfortunate habit of breaking at the most inconvenient times. We keep warm by snuggling together under our blankets. Snuggling becomes more and…well, college ends. She goes off to BioSythn. At her wedding a few years later there’s the hasty tryst in the women’s bathroom of the chapel, and since then…well, it’s been awhile. I’ve yet to find anyone that makes my heart race the way Jacquie could. That’s what I want.

I smile tightly at my mother. Two more years until Ruby becomes an adult. Two more years and I won’t have to endure these evenings any more to spend time with my baby sister. Two more years and I can finally begin to live my life.

*

The pieces were there, Alex knew it. Just helplessly scattered to the wind. Her life was in chaos and she’d ruined everything, isolated from her family, depressed, adrift. She wouldn’t have cared, would happily stay adrift, dulling her senses with an escalating series of bad decisions but for the sister that depended on her.

Kara.

It seemed like a stupid reason to try. After all, Kara didn’t need her, not really. They weren’t even technically sisters. Kara had been brought into her life late. She was sheathed in a protective shell that made her special. But Kara was scared, alone and Alex had made a promise.

Truthfully, Alex was scared too. She felt forgotten. Why did no one care that she ran herself off the rail continuously? Where were her parents? Where was Kara? She’d tried here and again to break the cycle, but it always fell apart, she always seemed to let her sister down. She let everyone down.

It was no different this time, if a bit more solid. That seemed to be the only change. Each time the experience grew more solid, building from the memories of the past. Alex dropped out of college to follow some guy whose name she couldn’t even remember. It was almost a relief when she hit the parked car and stumbled out to be arrested for drinking under the influence and petty larceny. Specifically, for stealing no-name guy’s uncle’s old beater. Now Alex would face charges, probably a few years behind bars. Punishment. She didn’t know why, but she had to be punished. For her failing. Only then could the loop begin again. She leaned her head against the hard iron bars.

“Alex Danvers.” The voice was deep and rich. Knowing. Alex started. A tall, dark man stood outside the cell, contemplating her. Despite his imposing presence he felt comforting. Alex turned away.

“I didn’t ask for a lawyer,” Alex said. She never did. With a lawyer there would be a chance of escape and she didn’t deserve that chance.

“That’s not why I’m here,” he said. Alex felt the frustration rising. He was ruining this.

“Just go away!” she yelled. “I don’t want you here!”

“My name is J’onn J’onzz,” he said, unbothered. “You won’t remember this, but we’ve met before. I’ve been watching you.” J’onn paused.

“You’re special, Alex.”

Alex scoffed.

“I mean it,” J’onn said. “You think this is it, the bottom of the barrel, the endless cycle of punishment for some failing you can’t quite remember.”

Alex tried to control her breathing, anything to slow the rising panic, the feeling the floor was about to fall or the ceiling evaporate and pull her up into space.

“But I see more in you, Alex,” J’onn continued. “You have the power to make this place whatever you want. You already have a sister. A mother. Father. Now you have me. You are not forgotten, Alex.”

J’onn placed a hand against the bars and the jailhouse faded into a world of white and grey. Mist floated past, full of possibilities.

Alex longed to live in the city. A great big city such as she’d seen on TV. Out of the mist, the roads and skyscrapers took form, stitched together from a million cities to build the one that she could call home. A place where Alex would protect people like her sister, like herself, that felt lost and scared and forgotten.

All the repressed rage and sorrow for which Alex had no explanation fell into place as her world, her story, coalesced around the scene and people she knew. People she loved.

_No more._

Alex felt herself grow stronger.

“No more,” she said to the receding mist.

*

“Jonathan Jones.” Lillian Luthor purses her lips. “I always hate when a good one goes bad.” She tosses the folder to the side. More for show than anything Lena knows. This is another lesson. Every day has been nothing but a succession of “lessons” since her mother announced several months ago that she would be retiring and handing the reins over to Lena. Any day now, Lillian claims. That day can’t come fast enough for Lena.

“And what was Mr. Jones’ crime?” Lena asks, the dutiful daughter, future CEO.

“It appears Mr. Jones uploaded a virus to several units,” Lillian says. “They will have to be expunged of course, and Mr. Jones has been stripped of his position here and hopefully more.”

The implication is clear. Neural Net may be the most prestigious place to work, but not without its dangers; in large part because most people that cross Lillian Luthor are subsequently released into the network itself.

“You wouldn’t seriously release a man for that?” asks Lena. “What was the nature of the virus? Do we know if it was malicious or not?”

Lillian waves a hand.

“Does it matter?” she asks. “Carelessness. Failure to follow protocols. It’s going to set our projections behind for at least two months while we clean the system, probably losing a few units along the way. This kind of ‘error’ cannot be tolerated. Most troubling, it seems his actions were intentional.”

“I see.”

“Let this be a lesson to you,” Lillian continues, wagging a finger at Lena. Here it comes. The vaunted lesson.

“Trust no one. Jonathan has been a superb employee for years, even assisting with administration of the Test for over a decade based on his stellar performance. And yet…” Lillian shook her head. “People will always disappoint you,” she concludes. “Fear is the only way to keep them in line. Sometimes you have to make an example. And the most powerful examples are the most public.”

“Duly noted.” Discretely Lena glances at her watch. “This has been enlightening; however, I do believe the Board meeting is fast approaching…”

“Right, right,” says Lillian. “Go on ahead. I’ll be there shortly.”

In the hallway, Lena takes a deep breath.

“How’s your mother?” David Bailey grins at Lena, falling into step beside her. Despite being about fifteen years her senior, Bailey has quickly become Lena’s favorite confidant on the executive team. Perhaps it’s the fact that he remains the youngest other than her, or maybe his status as one of the only people other than Lena not afraid to tell Lillian Luthor “no.”

“The usual,” Lena says. “Paranoia over some virus.”

Bailey’s grin fades a watt. Lena keeps her head focused forward, heels clacking at breakneck speed down the tiled hall.

“What do you know, Bailey?”

“I know at this pace, we’ll be within earshot of the conference room in about ten seconds.”

Abruptly Lena stops, crossing her arms as she faces him. “Alright. Talk. We have about thirty seconds before my mother comes out.”

Bailey glances quickly in both directions before speaking in a low voice.

“We call it Project Dawn. It’s a provocative approach, I admit that. We need something more effective and humane than our current programming. You know as well as I that generating more power with more units isn’t feasible. At some point, people will realize they’re being used. They will stop buying into this fantasy of merit the Corporations have pulled off for so long.”

“That’s not entirely fair, it’s still a merit-based system.”

“Oh, come on,” replies Bailey. “You know as well as I do that the slots are filled in what? Three? Four days of testing if it’s a bad year? Out of ten? Tough luck for anyone scheduled in the second week.”

“It’s not perfect,” Lena says.

“You’re damn right it’s not.”

Lena gives Bailey her best glower.

“I wish you’d come to me first,” Lena says. “What do you want me to do now?”

“I need you to get in that CEO chair,” Bailey replies. “By any means necessary. We need to stop this cycle of release. We need Project Dawn to move forward.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Lena says. “But it’s not an easy feat to rush my mother.”

Unexpectedly, Bailey reaches out, squeezing her hand tightly. His light eyes squint intently.

“Lena!”

Her mother waves from down the hall. Lena drops Bailey’s grip. She swears his face falls just a bit more, a pale sheen visible across his brow.

“We’ll talk later,” Lena promises.

Lillian closes the door behind Lena.

“What does Bailey know about this Jonathan Jones situation?” she asks.

“Mother! That was a private conversation!”

Lillian smiles. “So he does know something. I’m guessing he’s behind it.”

“I think it would be best if we dropped this,” Lena says. She places a hand on the doorknob. At this point they will both be late to the Board meeting.

“Best for who?” Lillian asks. “For your buddy Bailey? I can tell you who it’s not good for. It’s not good for you.”

Lena shakes her head.

“I don’t follow.”

“Let me explain something to you. You are a young woman, about to step into a big role. That means a big target on your back. There are those out there that will think you’re weak. Try to take advantage of you. To all of those people, you need to show them that you are strong. That you will not show mercy. And that the Luthor family is not to be trifled with.”

Lillian eyes her daughter coolly.

“Have I chosen my successor poorly?” she asks.

Lena’s heart drops.

Years of study. One of the first selected by the Test on the morning of day one. Offers for the top three colleges. Studying constantly, with no time for dating, parties, or any of the other outlets and indulgences afforded to young adults after the Ceremony. Bailey’s mentoring over the past several years, all grooming her towards one, inevitable role. Her chance to make a difference, to make things better. Her destiny.

_By any means necessary_.

The flicker of uncertainty in Bailey’s eyes – fear. He knows how this ends. Lena straightens her posture, chin up, facing her mother.

“Absolutely not,” she says. “In fact, I’d like to offer a proposal.”

Lillian arches an eyebrow.

“What’s that?”

“I want to take over Neural Net today, not at some unspecified date in the future,” Lena says. “Hand over the reins in the Board meeting right now. And my first action as CEO will be to order the release of Jonathan Jones.” Lena pauses, her throat dry. “And David Bailey.”

Slowly a smile creeps across Lillian’s face. She extends a hand.

“Deal.”

*

“We have some news,” my mother says.

It’s only been a couple weeks since our dinner. The call earlier surprises me, a rare request to visit during the week at my place of work. The Test is around the corner though. Maybe Ruby has been accepted for early testing and they’re here to celebrate. I can scarcely contain my excitement.

“Where’s Ruby?” I ask.

“Sweetie, can you listen?”

“You said this was about Ruby,” I continue. “Why isn’t she here?”

Surely they would let her out of school for this kind of family announcement.

“Calm down, Sam,” says my father.

I feel my temperature rising. Ruby should be here. I can’t believe my parents would keep her from me in this moment. One last power trip.

“Ruby’s gone,” my mother says, her voice breaking. Quickly she cups her hands over her nose and mouth suppressing a gasp.

My skin goes cold.

I don’t understand. Gone where? My father tilts his head to the side.

“They had a game last night,” he says, as if that explains anything. “On the ride back, the bus slid off the road.” His voice is cool and dispassionate, a tone more suited for discussing the impact of an unseasonably cool spring on the garden, not this.

“It tumbled sixty feet off the edge of a ravine. She died before reaching the hospital.”

“What…”

This isn’t true. It can’t be true. Ruby is going to take the Test. We’re going to move into an apartment together, learn to cook, develop an elaborate code to covertly comment on each other’s romantic partners.

“Your sister is dead,” my father says.

“No,” I say. I take a step back. “You’re lying.”

“We’re not!” my mother gasps. She covers her mouth again, looking at the ground.

“Let her be,” says my father. He sounds bored.

I continue to back away, unable to tear my eyes away. The only family I’ve ever had…gone. My Ruby.

I see her running across the field, curly hair bouncing as she expertly weaves the ball around her opponents. My beautiful little girl.

I don’t know how I make it back to my apartment but I collapse on the bed, unable to even cry.

My life stretches out from there, the time After Ruby, an endless series of days that blend into one another. I go through the motions, working all day and drinking myself numb every night. I am hollow and adrift, no family to my name, not even playing at the game of trying to make a life anymore, of pretending that any of the silly trappings of work or money or relationships matter.

I have nothing. I am nothing. And thus, I fade from existence.


	10. Day 7

_Maybe you could wake me up._

Alex’s thought echoes in my brain, more enticing with each reverberation. What if I could see Alex, in the flesh? Actually touch her, kiss her…

“You couldn’t stay,” I say, speaking aloud more for my benefit than Alex’s. I’m still not completely used to the control she has. And the fact that I know she can hear my thoughts. “The system would register a disruption after some amount a time and alert a technician.”

“After one hundred and fifty seconds,” says Alex.

 “Are you sure?”

“I’m looking at the code, right now,” says Alex. “Want me to change it?”

“No!” I blurt.

Alex looks at me strangely.

“We have to be careful about this,” I say. “Waking up a unit already breaks, like, a dozen rules. I don’t think it’s smart for you to go changing code. It might draw attention when we don’t need any.”

“But I’m part of the system,” Alex argues. “If this is my lot in life, if all I am is code, why shouldn’t I change it to help us out? It’s a minor adjustment.”

“You don’t get it, Alex. This place…it’s not all free living do-what-you-want. There are rules and there are serious consequences for breaking those rules. I could end up…” _Just like you._

I don’t catch myself in time. Even though the words never pass my lips the thought is out there.

“I don’t mean it like that,” I say.

The air hangs heavily between us. Alex blinks. I can’t read if she’s more hurt or angry.

“Just…please.” I’m pleading. I hear the knock on the door, the reading of my sentence, imagine the paralyzing shot they will inject before taking me off my own somniostatic chamber.

“Promise me you won’t go poking around the Neural Net servers. It’s the only way we can do this.”

A long pause.

“Fine.” Alex relaxes her shoulders. For the time being I’ve convinced her.

“Thank you.” I release the breath I didn’t know I’d been holding.

Now for the hard part. I need to start breaking rules. I’m going to need every advantage I can get. Fortunately, I can think of a big one.

*

Sam left in that unsettling way Alex wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to. Here one moment and then…not. A shell going through the motions but not quite Sam. The hollow version was too accommodating, too predictable. Alex liked how the real Sam argued with her, even got mad when they disagreed on stupid things like whether sprinkles enhanced the flavor of donuts or not. (Emphatically no, according to Sam.)

So why did it bother her so much that Sam wouldn’t let her adjust the code? It was less that they disagreed then the vehemence with which Sam forbade it. Maybe it was dangerous. Alex certainly didn’t want to get Sam in any trouble. But she’d already gone poking around the server to see what was possible with her new-found sentience. If sending Sam a chat message was alright, why not manipulating code?

The longer Alex mulled, the more vexed she became. Who was Sam to decide anyway? There was only one way to know the ins and outs of the risk, and that meant understanding every safeguard put in place between herself and Sam.

Alex stood, taking a deep breath as she contemplated the DEO computer before her.

_You are the machine_.

She could do this. Hesitantly, Alex touched the keyboard and urged her mind to clear.

The screen filled with numbers, letters, and symbols, all streaming past too quickly to contemplate. The walls of the lab melted as Alex reached into the screen, stepping through to the virtual streets of the network. The code flickered, alternating between its alphanumeric shapes and the figures represented.

The code for the local monitor had been close last time, mere feet from where she rested. The digits fractured to reveal the dull cream box, the one used to sedate involuntary awakenings. Alex remembered the blue light flashing and the pinch. Unseen in the image but apparent from the lines of code, the timer inside that would call the tech.

Alex steadied her breath. The network extended out in all directions, through space and time and a fifth dimension Alex couldn’t quite articulate related to movement. The shape of the network shifted continuously, like the inside kneading dough, nodes glowing enticingly in the ever-changing form. A few hubs of activity remained relatively static, but Alex was more interested in what the network might be hiding than what rested in plain sight.

_Or what Sam might be hiding._

Except Sam wasn’t hiding anything. Was she?

The question, once thought aloud, refused to leave Alex alone. If Sam had nothing to hide, then no one would be hurt. What better way for Alex to learn how to navigate the network than to explore a topic of interest?

“Sam Arias,” Alex said to herself. She almost fell as lines of code raced past, information flooding in from all sides. Birth certificates, family lineage, school reports, credit. Every public record on a known Sam Arias at her fingertips.

“Samantha Arias,” Alex corrected. Promptly the records regarding Samuel Arias vanished.

“Currently employed at Neural Net.” Better. She only cared about her Sam.

Born into a wealthy family, VPs at BankCo, respectably good grades, really nothing too remarkable. Spotty dating history that ended a little over three years ago. Honestly, Sam’s public record was pretty dull. Although, no record of pregnancy or having adopted, Alex noted, which left just one more question. Who was Ruby?

The records flooded in again. Photos of the same Ruby Alex had seen in National City, a teenager with a big smile, hair pulled back into a ponytail. A sister, not daughter, by a wide margin of years. Her name appeared at the top of several statistic trackers for youth soccer. A number of articles featured her with bold headlines; _The Next Great_ proclaimed one. _A Star on the Rise_ said another. Then several weeks later; _Tragedy for Football Fans_.

A bus accident that killed two left Ruby Arias, the next great hope for the BankCo soccer team, with a broken spine. The article lamented that she wasn’t expected to walk again. She was discharged from the hospital the day after the crash and from there the trail vanished. No more school records, no photos, no death certificate.

How could someone just disappear?

With sickening dread, Alex turned around. She saw them all stretched out across the endless room, row after row of clear pod. The names skimmed past, stopping when she found the one she sought.

A messy signature at the bottom, dated the same day as her discharge from the hospital confirmed it. Ruby wasn’t dead. Ruby slept in one of these pods, discarded like old leftovers once her chance as a professional athlete expired.

Sam lied about Ruby. She was still alive.

The disgust rose in Alex’s throat. What else didn’t she know about Sam?

*

I try to control the urge to fidget. Or to hunch forward. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m in the office of the Neural Net CEO in an uncomfortably low-cut top with a bizarrely outlandish proposal to study my unit in person. Amazingly, Lena not only lets me into her office without an appointment, but she also studiously reviews my request.

I lean back and try to not think about the amount of cleavage I’m showing. Lena glances up and immediately returns her gaze to the paper, flipping back to review the summary on the first page. She taps a single finger against the edge of her desk.

“This is highly irregular,” Lena says neutrally. There’s a flicker of something potentially dangerous in her expression.

_Shit_.

I’ve overplayed my hand. The stories they tell about the Luthors are no joke. I don’t know why I thought slapping on some makeup and strutting into the office of a woman I’ve already turned down would work. Especially when that woman happens to be a CEO and a Luthor.

Efficiently Lena whips out a pen and scratches a signature at the bottom of the page.

“There you go,” she says. “I have to say I’m curious to see where this line of thinking might be headed. And impressed as well,” she adds with a wink. “Most people wouldn’t have to balls to make such a request.”

Drily I try to swallow.

“You asked for creative solutions,” I say.

“And I daresay you’ll deliver,” she replies.

“Have coffee with me,” I say. It’s an impulse decision. “If this goes the way I hope…I may have another request to make. One I’d prefer to not be in writing.”

Lena cocks her head.

“Alright. It’s a date. A work date,” she clarifies quickly. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

*

Sam’s laptop was easy enough to hack. Alex couldn’t say what exactly had gotten into her, only that she was powerless to stop her own anger and need to know more. Only adding to her frustration was the fact that Sam’s personal files contained little of interest. The best item uncovered was an embarrassingly florid email to someone named Jacqueline, but that was years old, buried far in the archive.

Sam’s work files were even more mundane. Mostly lab notes, a couple half-formed theories, and loads of reports. My god, she had status reports on her status reports. How Sam ever accomplished any actual work in between informing her superiors of ongoing projects was a mystery. The most recent report appeared different however. It was addressed directly to the Neural Net CEO. Strange. 

_I have focused my study on one unit in particular I shall refer to as “X.”_

Alex’s breath caught in her throat. The mythology and city Sam described perfectly matched National City, right down to the “requisite threat” that took on Kryptonian features. The report went on to discuss the technical details required to allow others to visit, virtually speaking, the dream world construct.

In her periphery, Alex could see her own vitals spiking with the emotional impact of this information. The network pulsed around her warningly. If she couldn’t hold it together she would become a blinking red beacon, advertising her presence to everyone. She would be rebooted before ever getting the chance to wake up.

Alex curled into a ball, muffling a scream between her teeth.

_The richness of the experience as a visitor, as well as the unit’s protectiveness from self-realization provides a potential new source of revenue and services for Neural Net for which I believe merits further exploration…_

This had all been a fucking joke.

Sam’s act of helplessness, bringing Alex closer, manipulating _her_ world by adding Ruby, seeing how far she could take it, even deliberately winding Alex up, just to see how the “unit” would respond.

Alex could see the next report now, detailing out the pros and cons of creating romantic fantasies in the dreamscape, all with the promise of more revenue for the corporation. Alex closed her eyes and counted to infinity. Only when her vitals had returned to normal levels did she stand.

“Where is Sam Arias?” Alex asked. Security cameras from across the Neural Net campus spun, seeking faces, seeking the face of one who matched the ID on Samantha Arias. It took less than half a second.

Sam smiled, a bit of flush on her cheeks as a manicured hand passed over a sheet of paper. Sam tucked the paper into a bag.

That outfit… Alex had never seen Sam dressed up like that. A silky-looking top with a sharp v-cut flattered Sam’s form. No jacket, showing off her toned arms. Sam ducked her head, brushing back her hair. Was Sam flirting?

“Who is she talking to?” Alex asked.

Abruptly the camera angle switched to a striking woman with pale skin and dark hair. The woman dropped her eyes, fluttering her lashes slightly.

_Lena Luthor, Neural Net CEO._

“No more,” said Alex.

She stared at the blank computer screen in the DEO lab; safe within her protective dreamscape again. Alex had seen all she needed.

She picked up the computer monitor and tossed it off the desk. The corner cracked sharply where it hit the floor, the damage snaking out from the point of impact. If Alex closed her eyes, the computer monitor would be back on the desk, unbroken. That was the thing about dreaming. Mistakes could be made and fixed seamlessly, with no interruption in logic. But in the real world, the way things were supposed to be, mistakes had consequences. They reverberated through time, damaging not just that moment but future moments in unexpected ways, like the distortion of the cracked screen.

Alex buried her head in her hands.

What kind of life did she want?

*

“I did it.”

Alex glances up from the computer monitor in surprise.

“Did what?”

“I got access,” I say. “To the Warehouse. Where you are.”

“Like…officially?” Alex asks.

“Yeah.” I can’t hold back the smile. “I know a guy. No sneaking in or worrying about security. I can just walk in.”

“Wow.”

For a second Alex is impossible to read. Happy? Sad? Angry? Hungry? Suddenly she shakes her head, a huge grin erupting.

“I can’t believe it,” she says. “When?”

“Tomorrow. It’s a one-day pass.”

Alex’s expression falls.

“I can get another one,” I say. “I’m sure of it. In fact…”

My heart pounds with excitement. But it’s too soon to share this with Alex. I don’t want to get her hopes up prematurely, but after my meeting this afternoon, I think I can convince Lena to let me wake up Alex. Maybe even permanently. In time. For now it will have to be covert but still…

I squeeze Alex’s hands.

“I can’t believe I’m going to see you,” I say. Her deep brown eyes widen in that way that makes me feel so open, as though she can read each and every one of my secrets. I want her to know them all. I want to share everything with her, every flaw, every strength, every experience. Starting with this one.

“Tomorrow is so soon,” Alex says. “Are you going to be ready by then?”

“What’s to get ready?” I ask.

Alex chuckles to herself.

“I always forget, you study machines. But tomorrow, you’re meeting a human being.” Alex points to herself. “And I can promise you, I won’t look this good. If I’ve been sleeping for years, my systems are going to be all out of whack. Waking up won’t be as simple as pushing a button.”

Hmm. I hadn’t thought about that.

“Ok…” I say.

I draw a complete blank. I’ve never been trained in working with the physical units. I’m not even quite sure what the equipment looks like. My stomach knots around itself as the truth sets in. I am in way over my head. Alex watches me with crossed arms and a smirk.

“You know in National City, I’m a doctor,” she says.

“What will I need?” I ask helplessly.

“For starters, adrenaline,” Alex replies. “I’ll need a jump start. A standard dose should be fine but you might want to have a couple back-ups just in case. You can find those located in any supply closet of a medical center.”

“Adrenaline, check,” I say.

“Second, a towel would be nice.”

“A towel?”

“Do you even know what I’m going to look like?”

Abashedly I shake my head. Alex strokes my cheeks and places a gentle kiss on my lips.

“I’m suspended in a homeostatic, chemically conductive liquid, largely comprised of saline,” Alex whispers, somehow making her scientific description come off flirty. “I’m going to want a towel. And probably a hat too.”

“A hat?” I repeat.

“I don’t even want to think about the state of my hair. I’m pretty sure no one is coming around to take care of that.”

“Alright, so adrenaline, a towel, and a hat,” I say. “I can get that all tonight.” There is a pause during which for the first time I feel the weight of what we are about to do. My heart skips a beat.

“When should I come by?” I ask.

“When are things the quietest?”

For some reason I think about Lena Luthor, making the rounds in the early hours of the morning.

“Just before dawn,” I say.

“Perfect,” says Alex. “Let me know right before you leave, ok? I want to be ready.” She makes a goofy expression and I laugh, our noses coming in close and rubbing.

“Of course,” I whisper. I wish this moment could never end.

“Until then…”

We kiss again, pressing our lips together. There’s something anxious and needy in Alex’s kiss. Fear for the risk I’m taking, fear that her physical form won’t live up to my expectation. I need her to know that isn’t true. That no matter what she looks like, I’m in love with her beautiful spirit. Her soul.

 “Alex?” I say.

“Yeah?”

“I lo–”

“Shh,” says Alex, pulling me in close and muffling any chance I have of completing the thought.  

“Not now,” she whispers. “Not here. Save it for when it’s real.”


	11. Day 8

I can barely sleep. It takes all of my self-control to stay away from the neural band, to unplug. I need to remain aware of the time. We get one chance at this. One freebie. Today will have to be short. Painfully short. Long enough to see if what we have there carries over. To see if it’s real.

Alex estimates we’ll have five minutes. Two and a half minutes before the monitor registers the pause in output, then an additional two, maybe three minutes before security arrives and calls a technician. A year’s worth of emotion to pack into a mere five minutes.

Oh yeah, and then getting Alex back in the chamber and myself clear before anyone notices an analyst waking up units. Once I know that the way I feel about Alex isn’t some artifact of the dream state, then I have to find a way to make this permanent. To un-release Alex, if such a thing is possible. _No pressure, Arias._ It’s just the love of my life and my career on the line. Possibly my life.

My thoughts toss and turn, weighing the scenarios while I lie sleepless in bed. It’s still dark when the alarm buzzes against my skin. I slip out of the sheets and dress in the clothes I’ve already laid out for myself. A small bag contains my ID, the special swipe card for the Warehouse, three vials of adrenaline, and a towel. I fix a baseball cap on my head.

In the pre-dawn dark the entire campus feels unsettlingly different. Once I cross the dividing street between the residential and business portion of campus my path deviates from the usual, heading east towards the original buildings, the heart of the network.

The units are housed in the Warehouse, a nondescript building I’ve seen from a distance but never actually been inside. The temporary card Lena gave me is damp with sweat. I hope it still scans properly. The windowless structure appears abandoned at first glance, until one notices the many security cameras that swivel soundlessly about. I pull the baseball cap a bit lower over my head. I’m not sure why, I have authorization to be here, but the knowledge I’m about to break a big rule inside has me on edge.

The temporary card scans clearly on the first try, turning the light beside the door from red to green. I push, and without fanfare, step into the Warehouse. It smells of dust and decay. The door closes behind me and I’m encased in total darkness. I brush my hand along the rough concrete wall until I locate a switch. Teeny uncovered bulbs of light flicker to life, stretching down the hallway. God, this place is ancient.

My footsteps echo loudly. I keep my access card in hand, just in case I happen to encounter someone with questions. Faded signs point the way to various lots.

When I enter the room for Lot A my heart stops for a second. Lined up like coffins, there is nothing but row after row of clear containers, their human occupants floating in an opaque liquid accompanied by a low hum. Not a single one moves. The entire room seems to breath slowly in and out with the same rhythm, guided by the outdated-looking monitors that are spaced between every ten or so units.

I try to not look directly at any of the bodies as I search for Alex. They all wear the white jumpsuit I recall people receiving at the Test, just before I was led away. The faces appear relaxed, peaceful even. It contrasts sharply with the violent and aggressive constructs that dominate human dreaming. A pair of eyes open suddenly and I let out a small scream. The eyes close and open again, the body still asleep.

Alex floats calmly in her chamber numbered 3578 located directly next to a monitor, no indication of the intense, vivid world she inhabits in her mind.

Scarcely breathing, I type her number into the monitor to stop the flow of chemicals. A small pressure plate along the seam releases the chamber, the top opening with a light hiss.

“Alex,” I whisper. She looks mostly the same as the Alex I’ve seen in her dreams. Her hair is longer and her frame borders on emaciated from the bare-bones nutritional mix used to power the units.

But her face… The curve of her cheeks, shape of her lips, the slight nock in her nose are all there. The face that I’ve gazed into a million times.

I reach into the liquid, shaking her shoulder gently. Alex breathes unevenly and her eyes flutter before she settles back into stasis. Carefully I load one of the adrenaline doses. Cringing, I plunge the needle into her shoulder. For a second, there is no reaction.

Alex rockets up with a gasp, her long hair tossing droplets against my clothes. She takes awful, wracking breaths as her entire body spasms.

“Here, here,” I say, stepping forward to pat her eyes. The towel comes away with bits of gunk accumulated against her eyes and nose. Alex blinks uncertainly, her pupils unfocused, unable to see after so long closed. I reach for her hand.

“Alex, it’s me,” I say. “It’s Sam.”

I guide her hand up to my face and she explores my skin with her fingers, pupils slowly dilating as they adjust. Her hand ceases its movement and she stares, seeing me for the first time, taking in every angle, every edge of my face.

“Sam,” she says. Her voice cracks with disuse, scratchy and rough, yet full of emotion. I feel her longing as she brushes my skin and the heat rises to my cheeks.

“You haven’t seen the competition,” I mumble. I don’t think she hears.

I help her stand, the salty liquid sloshing about her knees, and then carefully stepping over the edge of her prison. Only then do I pull out the towel and begin helping her dry off. Alex’s limbs move unsteadily. I don’t want to rush her but I’m painfully aware of the seconds ticking past.

Finally, Alex is clear of the somniostatic fluid. Her eyes are bright and sharp, taking in the dismal surroundings with hunger, pupils in constant motion. I see her pulse quicken in her throat as she looks to me, lips parting slightly. I forget about the ticking clock, National City, Neural Net, and everything as I stare at her. Long, damp hair hangs in a bit of a mess and with an unusual trace of embarrassment, Alex reaches for my cap, placing it on her own head and tucking the long strands underneath. The movement breaks me from my trance.

“We don’t have much time–”

“I know,” Alex interrupts. Her expression flickers with all that remains unspoken. Too much for our limited time. “I just want to remember you. Like this.”

Her lips press against mine roughly, biting, licking against my kiss. Our faces bump into each other awkwardly, the kiss far from perfect, her lips too unpracticed, still tasting of saline and mine too dry. But as the seconds pass we find each other, fitting together more naturally.

I pull away, Alex’s wide eyes deep pools of warm chocolate, her pupils still in constant motion, memorizing everything.

Her intense energy is infectious. I feel giddy, present, aware of the blood rushing through my body, the way my muscles act in concert to create smooth movement and the dank, dusty smell of the Warehouse, all these odors of life and decay, so beautiful, so real, the world so tangible. Alex’s skin is soft with light hairs that rise upon my touch. Her frame is lean, bony points showing through at the joints and her pulse visible through the pale skin.

The invisible timer ticks down. It can’t be long now. But we don’t move. In this space there is no time. The moment lingers, the swirling sense of being _here_ , of being _alive_ , trying to capture something by which to remember the feeling for a later date.

Alex watches me closely, eyes damp but clear. She knows the end is near.

“I love you,” I say. Alex’s mouth opens soundlessly. Instead I watch her lips form the words.

Blue light catches the corner of my eye. I try to turn, ready to make my excuses to security, but Alex grabs my cheeks with her hands, breathing heavily, crying, I think. We stand, our foreheads pressed together as if in prayer, ignoring the outside world.

The pinch of the needle comes before I realize Alex has positioned me beside the chamber. The dizziness hits immediately and the walls of the room fall away, suddenly high above. The words she’d mouthed suddenly click.

_I’m sorry._

All too late, I finally understand.

*

The lights blinked out slowly over National City. This was Alex’s favorite time. Watching the city fall asleep, the way it never completely succumbed, some lights flicking off but others remaining on, regardless of the hour. Lately Alex had taken to watching National City’s nightly activities from the DEO roof. It helped knowing that sleep was an illusion, as well as being able to zip through each day and slow down the moments she most enjoyed. With so little time remaining, she figured why not indulge in late night after late night.

An odd thing to think about here – time. She knew from online records how long it had been, but it hadn’t always been here, in National City. Real or not, Alex felt the need to make her good-bye the way she wanted. Only a few steps remained.

In the bed of her apartment Sam twitched in her sleep. Carefully Alex slid under the covers, kissing the back of Sam’s neck. Sam rolled over, more awake than she should be.

“It’s time,” she whispered. “I’m leaving now.”

Alex smiled at her earnestness.

“I’ll be ready,” she promised.

Sam rolled over, back to sleep. Alex waited a few seconds for the deep breathing to settle in before opening her laptop. After a bit of practice, it was almost too easy. Everything was online these days. One didn’t even have to leave the house to have all the trappings of a life, which would be a good thing for Alex.

Efficiently Alex manipulated the necessary numbers and dates, submitting Sam’s notice, transferring her bank funds to a new account, and paying her rent through the next couple of months. Alex retreated from the network, queuing up the records she needed Sam to find.

“What do we do now?” Alex asked the now-empty apartment. In her head she heard J’onn’s voice, the same imperative he’d offered since Alex first went to him.

_Now you wake up._

*

The DEO plummets into the depths of the ocean, the whole of National City swallowed by the insatiable flood. Leagues under the sea, unable to breathe, unable to move against the furious currents Alex will drown. It’s just a matter of when. A hand tugs against her wetsuit, but too late. Fate has been fixed. She can hold her breathe no longer. It’s time to let go.

With a gasp Alex opens her mouth and inhales the world. Her chest pounds painfully, a sloshing sound in her ears and the rush of blood. She must be buried, for nothing is visible but the air is full, overfull even, with odors that stack on top of each other, all competing for attention. Alex’s limbs twist and jerk uncontrollably as sensations join the sensory experience. Liquid and air, smooth and rough, something soft yet strong. Skin.

There are questions on questions but her vocal cords refuse to work, like a nightmare where she can’t call for help except this is everything she’s dreamt of inside her dreaming.

A new texture. Something scratchy but soft padded against her cheeks. A million discrete nerve endings all firing in harmony to create this _now_. A tall, slim figure hunches, murmuring soothing words Alex can’t understand for the concept of language itself is remarkable. The figure lifts her and Alex allows herself to be raised from this bath. Features blur but not the movement, not the shape of her motion.

“Sam,” says Alex. The vocalization hurts too much to say more, but as her vision focuses around the face of Samantha Arias, one thought stands out. _You’re even more beautiful than I dreamed._

Not that it changes anything.

Sam’s cheeks glow pink from the exertion of supporting Alex, a glow that seems to pervade her entire being with an air of vitality. Alex avoids glancing at her own skin, pale and puffy with saturation, a creature of the night that doesn’t deserve Sam’s sun.

It’s easy to avoid taking in her own state. There’s so much detail, so much else to observe. Every surface, the edges and cracks, the way the dust settles in patterns on the floor, the subtle wafting of scents and the way they mix to form something completely original, defining each and every second. The constant, ever-shifting world, of life. All this to absorb in so little…

“–time,” Sam says anxiously as she towels Alex down.

“I know.”

Reluctantly Alex draws her eyes away from their surroundings to focus on the important aspects of the next two minutes.

Sam is even more entrancing in person than her projected dream self. Proportionally, she’s been more honest, appearing the same size and build; and even wearing the hat Alex requested. Sam gazes at Alex with hope for… _what_ , wonders Alex. Everything about this has made it clear Sam intends to follow through with the original plan. Wake up her playmate, steal a kiss, and then back to life. Real life.

Sam smiles and Alex’s heart lurches with unearned pity. _Oh, Sam_. Despite her years of living, she knows so little. She doesn’t even notice as Alex sidles towards the monitor, pressing that blasted blue button, too distracted by their inelegant, imperfect kiss.

_A lie_ , thinks Alex. Like everything else they had.

“I love you,” Sam says.

Another lie. It has to be. Alex can’t bear what it means if she’s wrong.

Agent Danvers of the DEO has learned to be strong, calculating. It’s the only way to survive in this world and that one. Yet the guilt rises. Sweet, anxious Sam. Sam that showed her the Northern lights, that led her to her grandparent’s old trail.

_But as culpable as the rest of them._

That fact is undeniable.

“I’m sorry,” Alex says. She can’t hear her voice over the hum of machinery. The blue light shines steadily. It’s time.

Sam’s eyes widen in confusion as the needle pierces her skin, serum administering automatically upon contact. Her legs begin to crumple and Alex lunges forward to brace her fall. Their eyes connect as Alex lowers Sam to the floor.

Alex pants against the ground. Sam’s chest rises and falls evenly, body limp.

Thank god she altered the Warehouse security settings for the day. But still, the longer this takes, the greater the chance of never making it out. Alex riffles through Sam’s bag, injecting herself with another shot of adrenaline to power her next set of exertions.

Disrobing herself and Sam turns out to be the easy part. Fitting Sam into the damp jumpsuit is trickiest, while Alex fairly swims in Sam’s clothes. The sedative keeps Sam down while Alex struggles to lift Sam into the pod, resetting the chemical flow just as footsteps echo distantly down the hall. As Alex quickly closes the pod her hand slides across the manufacturer name engraved into the side of these living coffins: Krypton LLC.

Alex crouches and moves back several rows, out of the light. The security guard flashes a light through the dim room half-heartedly, muttering to himself. He enters the space, pausing over several chambers, flashlight reflecting off the saline solution, casting eerie glows on the ceiling. A tickle begins to work its way up Alex’s throat. This air is so dry.  She scratches at the outside of her throat, frantic not to cough and give it all away. The guard finally leaves. Alex covers her mouth and clears her throat loudly.

She’s memorized the Neural Net blueprints. Once out of this room there are tunnels that can take her across the corporate campus which no one alive knows about. Carefully she holds the last shot of adrenaline, her ticket to keep moving long enough to get to the carport.

The sunlight hits Alex’s eyes like a shower of sharp daggers. Alex keeps one hand on the waist of Sam’s jeans to hold them up and the hat tucked low over her face. The entire effect is that of a well-dressed drunk, stumbling home after a rough night.

The car waits where she’d ordered it, driver doing a discrete double take as she approaches.

“Sam?” he asks, glancing down at his phone.

Alex nods, hoping the hat will prevent him from checking much more than their approximate resemblance. The driver hesitates but takes his seat, starting the car and driving in silence. Alex slips down low as they exit the Neural Net campus. Colors rush past, so much life and activity, too much to handle. Low vibrations course through her bones threatening to rattle her apart.

Alex closes her eyes and wills herself to not get sick. God she’s hungry. And tired. It seems wrong to wake up from twelve years of sleeping and tire so quickly. What would Kara say?

_Toughen up cupcake_.

Alex smiles to herself. Actually, that’s something she would say to Kara. Time to do her own toughening up.

When the vehicle finally stops outside the train station Alex steps out stiffly with a wave, her driver pulling away quickly. At the train station, the loose clothes and hat are a bit less conspicuous. Alex waits near the train, stomach growling, but terrified of missing the sole ride to her destination. Time still feels unpredictable. She watches the second-hand circle round and round, the way the minute hand lurches forward and how the even more slow hour hand glides with movements too fine to be seen. She’s first to board, claiming a seat in the back that no one wants to sit near.

When the train pulls through to its final stop, Alex begins to walk. She knows this path well. The sun drops to the horizon and with it the temperature. It’s chilly and the cold seeps into the marrow, chilling her from the inside out. After centuries of walking, the door appears, red color visible in the pale light on the front porch.

Alex heaves with exhaustion, chest burning with pain. She welcomes the pain, the clearest distinguishing feature from the other world, the one that wasn’t real, the lie that Sam built. With an undefined sense of fear, Alex raises the knocker and lets it fall against the thick wood.

Seconds crawl by before the sound of scuffing can be heard within. Alex steels herself as the inside latch clicks, unable to look up.

A voice gasps. Familiar as being wrapped in a blanket, tucked into bed, the cheek that whispers good night when you’re sick.

“Oh my god!”

There is the sound of something falling onto the hard floor and then calloused yet soft hands grasp her by the shoulders, touching her cheeks, removing the hat, trying to make sure everything is real. Alex can barely breathe through the weight of the years it’s taken to get to this point, to say what she needs to say. Choking on tears, she finally does it.

“I’m so sorry, mom,” Alex says. “I didn’t pass the Test.”


	12. Six Month Later

Lena sighs, tapping a finger against her desk in frustration. _It’s not their fault_ she reminds herself. The projections just keep getting worse. What should have been a problem in three years is now going to be an issue in less than two. And none of the analysts Lena has tapped recently for special projects has shown a quarter the promise of Sam Arias.

Lena shifts in her chair. It’s so strange about Sam. Even months later it bothers her that she never showed for their coffee date. Everything in Sam’s record indicated a stable mental state, a good sense of accountability; the exact opposite of putting in immediate notice and vanishing without a trace, not to mention a forwarding address. 

Professionally speaking, Lena can’t complain. Nothing irregular is noted with Sam’s work log and her files are all left in impeccable condition, save the mysterious X that is never clarified. Lena tries checking whether Sam ever used that one-day access pass, but some kind of virus appears to have erased the Warehouse’s records for that day. The only irregularity noted in the manual logs is in Lot A, Bin A, where one unit remains disconnected for nearly an hour before security is notified. However, the maintenance report indicates the unit self-corrected the error. A later scan reveals the unit to be normal; fully functional and in proper sleep stasis.

The tapping sound fills the room. Belatedly, Lena realizes the analyst has completed her report.

“Thank you,” Lena says. “Please keep me informed.”

She turns towards the large window behind her desk, listening as the analyst hesitantly clatters out of the office. Nothing like Sam striding in with a low-cut top, _after_ having told Lena she was off the market, in order to get something she wanted. The memory makes Lena grin. The moxie.

In the courtyard below Neural Net employees chat as they walk between buildings, here and there a loner passing through.

“Samantha Arias,” Lena says softly, involuntarily scanning the face of every passerby. “Where did you go?”

*

From the roof of the DEO, Sam watched the slowly fading lights across National City. This time of day reminded her of the beginning. It’s where Alex brought her, dropping her in this spot after she fell with nothing but the sealed envelope in her hand. The one she’d long since memorized. The letter was typed but Sam preferred to imagine Alex had written it out longhand with a narrow, precise cursive.

 

_Dear Sam,_

_I hope you can forgive me. There’s something I need to do, something holding me back and I sense the same is true for you. You brought light into my world when there was none, and for that I can never thank you enough. I know now why this life never felt quite right. It never could be._

_I long to live, Sam. To really live. And you…you long for dreams. Maybe someday that won’t be the case. I hope someday you discover that dreams and fantasies can’t compare to the reality of life itself. That you recognize that pain and joy are flip sides of the same coin, and you can’t truly have one without the other. Until that day comes, I hope you find peace here._

_With all my heart,_

_Alex_

_P.S. I know I never said it, but I love you too._

For a moment Sam let the words wash over her, warm and smelling of Alex’s lavender soap. She opened her eyes and the city skyline vanished into the grey concrete on three sides and an invisible force field on the fourth. Through the open side J’onn regarded her with crossed arms and a frown.

“What have I done now?” Sam asked.

“Nothing new that I’m aware of,” responded the burly alien. “But you still haven’t answered my question.”

Sam sighed.

“What did you do to Alex Danvers?” J’onn asked, his voice rising in volume. “Where is she?”

“I don’t know,” Sam said. She couldn’t recall if they’d had this conversation before but the words came automatically as if rehearsed. “She brought me here. She knew the only way to fix it was to make a trade.”

A trade for what? Even as the words came forth she wasn’t quite sure what they meant. It was all so fuzzy and the harder she tried to concentrate the more the memories slipped and time muddled; past, present, and future out of sequence.

“I can keep you here as long as it takes, Ms. Arias.”

“I need to see Ruby,” Sam said. “You can’t hold me without cause.”

“Is that so?” J’onn asked. “You’re in a secret government facility. Your rights don’t apply here.” J’onn glanced at his watch. “I imagine the agents will be picking her up now.”

Sam’s skin went cold. Ruby. She couldn’t let them take her. Ruby was the only gift left to her.

“Stay away from Ruby,” Sam said. Her voice reverberated oddly through the cell, deeper than usual, the echo of something dangerous.

“Ahhh,” said J’onn. “Finally, Reign comes out to play. Maybe now we’ll get somewhere.”

“I’m not Reign,” Sam said.

But already her limbs were stiff with someone else’s control. She saw the holding cell as if from a distance, watching her own interaction with J’onn from the upper corner of the room. Sam displayed her hands, coated in red. Alex’s blood, mixed in with the blood of countless others.

“I don’t know where Alex is!” Sam screamed, even as her alter ego continued to taunt J’onn. Sam moved as if through gelatin to move forward, to re-inhabit her body. J’onn merely looked on disapprovingly with a gaze that suggested this was not their first interaction.

“What would Ruby think if she saw you now?” he asked.

_She’d hate me_.

The realization knocked Sam to her knees. Ruby stood beside J’onn with his same expression of judgement. She reappeared in a neighboring holding cell, crying.

“Looks like we’ll have to do this the hard way,” J’onn said.

Sam raised her eyes with exhaustion, finally in control again but the damage done. Through the small slit over J’onn shoulder, agents could be seen walking past in the DEO corridor. As Sam eyed J’onn warily, a familiar profile turned for just a second, making eye contact with Sam.

“Alex!” Sam said, stepping forward in surprise.

The force field zapped against her skin. The last thing she remembered was Alex’s expression of horror, Sam’s demons exposed for all to see.  

*

“Bad dreams, honey?” Eliza gives me that look I despise, the one filled with pity.

_Stop projecting_.

Even now, six months after escaping from REIGN my dreams haunt me. Not only at night, but in the day when I see Eliza and realize that my memories of the kind, single mother have been replaced by the more insidious version of my decade-long nightmare. Truthfully, it’s been more of an adjustment than I anticipated.

“The usual,” I respond.

I haven’t been able to bring myself to share much about my time in the void. Eliza has been understanding, a considerateness that for some reason drives me up the wall. I feel as if I’ve been replaced with another version of myself. I went off to the Test as one Alex, and returned as another, and I’m no longer sure which is the right one. Was I always two versions of myself, the other one simply hiding in wait? Or did the network change me into someone else?

“I can bring some sleeping pills from work,” Eliza says, not for the first time. “There’s a reason it’s the company’s top seller. Lots of people dislike the idea of dreaming.”

Not for the first time I shake my head. No. I deserve to live with this. And in a sick way, I enjoy the dreams that torment me. For it’s when I dream that the third version of Alex emerges, the one I could have been. The hero, the one who brings everyone together, the one surrounded by family.

_The one that made the decision to leave Sam in your place._

Unconsciously I shake my head again. No. That’s Alex two. The coward.

“I get it honey,” Eliza says with a touch of exasperation. “No sleeping pills. But you should really do something. Maybe try some yoga or meditation? Marianne says it’s done wonders for her son.”

“Sure.”

Eliza’s lips purse in such a way that I know she’s not really satisfied my answer.

“I’ll try some yoga,” I say with as much sincerity as I can muster.

Eliza smiles.

“Thank you, dear.”

As soon as Eliza leaves for work I lock the door to my room and flip over the mattress. On the bottom is a slit I cut six weeks after returning home, a secret stash for the neural band I took from Sam’s room, along with a few other items. I’ve relocated most of her stuff into a storage unit which draws down automatic payments from the bank account I established with Sam’s savings. On bad days I visit the storage cell, lowering the garage door and breathing in Sam’s scent in the darkness. Or what remains of it.

I’ve only used the neural band a handful of times to manage the bank account and otherwise clean up Sam’s online presence. I have to be careful though. In addition to crimes for hacking and releasing a Test-worthy subject, neural bands are not allowed off REIGN property. And with good reason. The ability to connect one’s own brainwaves directly to the network carries a lot of risk. And if you know how to use it, a lot of reward.

Carefully I run my finger along the smooth edge, imagining, as I do every time, how Sam must have felt putting this on when she came to visit me. For her, probably freedom, but to me this feels like a collar. An ugly reminder of how I used to live. And yet today I’m in for an even bigger reminder. My destination is the Neural Net mainframe, specifically Sam’s small corner of the universe.

Ironically, the idea came to me in a dream. The usual one where I’m running with Sam and I know if I deploy the false floor trap I can stop them, at the cost of Sam’s life. I always turn, wanting to tell her but too afraid. Then she falls and I run blindly with tears streaming down my face. But last night I realized the path can loop back and for once I awoke with dry cheeks. If I can confirm that I made the right choice, that Sam is happier there than she was here, maybe I can sleep again. One glance is all I need. It’s all I can risk.

Stepping into the mainframe is a bit like walking a well-trod path through fresh snow. I know the way by heart but everything is just a little different, the usual landmarks obscured and touched by a kind of magic. I don’t want to cause any disruption that might reveal my presence so I float in the space until I am close enough to make my move. I see the pods spread across the room just as they were the day I escaped, though now covered in their silent snow blankets. Sam’s vitals remain steady. Indistinguishable really from any other unit.

My hand reaches through to the chamber, ice walls melting at my touch. Walking through its mirrored surface, I return to National City.

Sam laughs and cries in turn, hands stained red, back against the far wall of a holding cell. Ruby dashes about, the dream fracturing into grey guilt and brown despair. The decaying scent of it overwhelms me.

This can’t be right.

In my confusion I break the only rule I set for myself. I look twice. Immediately Sam’s dark eyes catch my own.

_Fuck_.

I yank my hand from the chamber. Even connected to the network I can feel my heart, my actual heart, pounding silently against my rib cage. I’m in the middle of the Neural Net mainframe and I’ve just been made by a unit. One that knows I’m real. I need to hope she hasn’t figured out how to work the outer edges of the network yet. If that’s the case, I can just back out slowly the way I came in and no one needs to know. Hopefully she won’t wake or do anything that would cause a tech to look into the situation more deeply.

_Sam?_

The message flashes up in front of my eyes. I freeze, but nothing physical impedes my path.  

_Sam, I can tell it’s you_.

I grit my teeth. My only option is to ignore it and hope they go away.

_Since you won’t listen I’ve placed a tracker on your electronic signature_ , comes the reply to my silence. _I just want to talk. Or I can have a squad car sent to your exit destination if you prefer. Your choice._

Fuck. Shit. Balls.

This isn’t going to end well. Involuntarily I glance around again.

“Who are you?” I ask. “What do you want?”

_It’s Lena. Where have you been?_

Well, that’s unexpected.

Or maybe not, I think, recalling the cozy meeting between the two of them. Lena must have it bad if she’d let Sam avoid felony charges in exchange for a little conversation.

“On…vacation.”

A pause.

_Sounds nice. Where?_

I frantically try to remember anywhere in the world.

“To France,” I say. Nothing has ever more obviously been a lie.

_Sounds pleasant_ , Lena replies. _Look Sam, I don’t know what kind of job offer you got, but I’d really like to get you back here. Can we meet?_

“I’m not sure I have a choice.” Seeing as she caught me with the electronic equivalent of my pants down.

Lena chuckles. _I’ll be there shortly._

“No! Wait!” I yell.

But it’s too late. The connection is closed. And to make matters worse, Lena has left me in the dark. I fumble blindly for a moment before my vision suddenly adapts at which point I take the fastest route out.

I toss the neural band off my head quickly, as if Lena Luthor might jump through the wires. But it’s just me, alone in the locked bedroom, still hours before my mother returns home from work.

I frown at the clock. Substantially fewer hours than I expect. It’s already mid-afternoon.

That’s when the doorbell rings.

*

“You’re not Sam.” It’s a statement, delivered in a completely factual tone by a woman I’ve only ever seen through network security cameras.

“No, I’m not,” I say. The bitch must have whammied me in the network. That accounts for the lost time.

Deliberately, Lena reaches into her purse, pulling out a cell phone and beginning to type. She has documented proof of at least three major felony violations. I’d be lucky to even get a trial with her as state’s evidence. As much as I’d like to wring her neck, I need to find a compelling reason she shouldn’t wring mine.

“But I know where Sam is.”

Immediately Lena pauses, finger hovering over the final number that will make the call.

“I’m listening.”

In the silence I hear both of us breathing. My own breath ragged and uneven, and Lena’s calm and low.

“Not here,” I say. The last thing I need is for my mother to return early and deal with more questions. “There’s a diner down the street. It’s discrete.”

Lena nods and steps aside, allowing me to pass. The entire walk I try to plan my story. Every lie has a hole, a big gaping leap in logic that a Luthor would never overlook.

I beeline for an empty booth in the back and Lena slides in across from me, wiping the seat down as she moves. An apathetic teenager takes our order and delivers the basket of fries a minute later.

“Well?” asks Lena. “I’d like to point out, that I have been remarkably patient. However, my patience is waning rapidly. Who are you and where is Samantha Arias? And don’t say France,” she adds with exasperation.

I swallow hard. Time to try something truly desperate.

“My name is Alex Danvers,” I say. “But you might know me as unit X from Sam’s last status report.”

Lena rises, hovering uncertainly between sitting and standing.

“You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t exist.” No judgement, just a fact.

“When I met Sam, I didn’t know I was… asleep,” I continue. I dig a nail into one of the grooves on the tabletop.

“But then we…  It all came out. I learned about what happened and…” I clear my throat. I’m certainly not impressing Lena with my eloquence. I’m not even sure what I’m trying to say at this point.

“I thought I made the right decision. I thought it would make her happy and I couldn’t live there, knowing I wasn’t really living. But it hasn’t worked the way it should have. Everything I left has been twisted, she didn’t just take my place.”

I take a deep breath.

“I left her there,” I say. “I put her in my pod and escaped. She’s the one who doesn’t exist now.”

Grease sizzles against the fries, a whispered warning. Clattering pots and pans can be heard from the kitchen along with raucous laughter.

“You know who I am, right?” asks Lena slowly. “Why would you tell me this? I could have officers arrest you right now.”

“I know,” I say. “But I think you’ll wait. Because right now, we both want the same thing.”

Lena crosses her arms.

“And what’s that?”

“We both want to get Sam out.”

Lena tilts her head slightly, expression unreadable. A splinter from the groove in the table wedges under my nail and I grimace.

“Alright,” Lena says. “But in return you’re going to do me a favor.”

Lena pulls a napkin and quickly scrawls something, passing it across the table.

“I don’t know what this means,” I say.

“It’s a serial number,” Lena replies, her lips barely moving. “Memorize it, and then use the napkin to wipe up some of that grease. When you get Sam, retrieve that unit as well and I promise, I will make all your problems go away.”

Her eyes convey what that promise means. A fresh start, a new life. No more running, no more fear of release. But it doesn’t make any sense. All she knows of me is betrayal.

“Why would you trust me?”

Lena’s gaze remains even.

“I don’t,” she says. “But it’s clear you were the one Sam was in love with. And I have to believe some part of you must have loved her.”

Abruptly she stands.

“I’ll be in touch.”


	13. Twelve Months Later

Casually I let the hood slip just over the top part of my face, inclining my head down as if checking messages my phone. This phone has of course been gutted; making it impossible to track but also useless except as storage for the three lithium batteries tucked inside. My hand shakes slightly as I read the note etched into the screen for the hundredth time.

_Lot A, Bin A, Unit 3578_

_Lot A, Bin A, Unit 3678_

_Lot D, Bin J, Unit 1140_

Despite Lena’s admonishments I’ve written down my directions. I figure if someone gets ahold of the phone I’m already in too deep to avoid sentencing. Lena worries the last serial number, the one recalled from a dirty diner napkin, may expose her involvement. I don’t really care. I’ve been honest from the start that I won’t go down alone.

I close my eyes, recalling the scene from so many sleeps ago, trying to imagine it all in reverse. It’s taken a long time to get to this point, much longer than anticipated. Months of training to rebuild wasted muscle, memorizing physical layouts, and of course the technical training on the machinery. Lena insists this must be done manually. No trace of network tampering. It should appear like standard unit failures. Her words, not mine.

In my hoodie no one appears to notice as I cross the campus. I’ve studied the maps so long it feels familiar even though I’m taking it all in for the first time. My feet move as if I’ve done this before, which I guess I have in simulated form. One hundred feet and then turn right. Four hundred feet and left.

Imposing concrete rises suddenly, decades older than the shiny glass buildings that surround it. Head tilt to avoid the camera. Body positioned to block the view of the door. I have notes on disabling the scanner but I need two hands so hopefully my recall is good enough. The cover pops off easily, revealing the wire formations I’ve started seeing in my sleep. Over, over, under, under.

The door clicks as the light switches from red to green. Easy panini.

Lights with old-fashioned switches lead the way down the bare corridor. I’ve entered in the middle of the alpha-coded lots, not quite where I expect to be. For a moment I’m disoriented by the halls that stretch in three possible directions until I spot a faded sign directing me to Lots A-H.

Not a soul impedes my progress en route to Lot D. It’s as if the designers of the system never anticipated this kind of move. Maybe Lena isn’t completely ridiculous to forcing a purely manual escape. I certainly hope so. I may have spent the last six months training, but I’m still uncertain whether I could hold my own in a legitimate fight. Especially with three weakened humans in my caravan.

The sight of the pods catches me off guard, even having studied the layout via the mainframe. The room echoes with low vibrations of life, contrasted with the stillness of a sea of motionless creatures, each suspended within their clear chamber.

My pulse quickens but it’s not nerves this time. Anticipation. In a few moments I’ll know who Lena Luthor wants free as badly I want to get Sam.

It’s a good thing I check the numbers as I move, for I don’t recognize him. He must be important, at least to Lena, but in here he’s just another mind trapped in the void.

Six months of training kicks in automatically. Pause the biologic systems. Disconnect the neural attachment and hook in the battery, which will temporarily mimic the draw of energy. Open the chamber. Administer the adrenaline, hand over the mouth to prevent both swallowing liquid and any involuntarily shouting.

The middle-aged man’ eyelids flutter rapidly as his body seizes, head bobbing beneath the surface. I pull his head above the surface. The eyes open wide, hazel, almost golden brown in color as he leans over the edge of the chamber and retches.

“You’re alright,” I say, rubbing his back and trying to ignore the smell. He climbs out shakily, continuing to heave, leaning against the neighboring chamber for support.

“Can’t see,” he moans.

“That’s normal,” I say. “Give your eyes a minute to adjust. In the meantime, I need to dress you. We don’t have much time.”

I walk around to where his hands are placed, helping to raise him to an uneasy standing position. That’s when I notice the curly hair and round cheeks of his neighbor, a few years older than I remember her.

Ruby.

*

Lena paces in her office. She shouldn’t be this nervous. Everything has been planned, practiced. Hell, they spent six months, half a damn year, prepping for today. Luthors don’t fail. But it’s that damn Alex Danvers. She zeroed in on the fact that Lena needed her to do this, and it’s made her insufferable ever since. It’s bad enough Sam choose her over Lena, but…

_Stop._

Lena shakes her head. This line of thinking will get her nowhere. Focus on the positive. By the end of the day she’ll have her top two minds back to help her fix the problems facing Neural Net. And she won’t have to deal with Danvers any more.

Stupidly she checks her phone. Alex doesn’t have a working phone, and Lena wouldn’t allow her to text even if she did. But god it sucks having no idea what’s happening.

A gentle knock on the door precedes her assistant, Connor, peeking in.

“I’m sorry Ms. Luthor,” he begins, “but I have a call from someone in maintenance at the Warehouse. They are quite insistent about speaking to you.”

“Really?”

Lena can think of only one person at the Warehouse who might want to reach her. With an exaggerated show of disinterest she waves a hand.

“Why not? Connect them through.”

“Yes ma’am.”

The phone rings. Lena takes a breath, praying Alex has the good sense to realize her general line is unsecured.

“Lena Luthor,” she says. “This is maintenance?”

Alex’s voice sounds tight. It makes Lena feel better knowing Alex is just as anxious.

“Yes. I just completed my inspection of the facility, and you have a deficiency in batteries.”

“Batteries?” repeats Lena.

“For the fire alarms,” Alex continues. “The ones in Lot A.”

Lena frowns. Despite her better sense, she’d acquiesced to Alex’s demand for an extra battery. In case of emergency only, Alex swore. How the hell could she have burned through three of them already?

“I’ll get someone right on that,” Lena says. “Thank you for letting me know.”

The phone clicks in her hand.

Lena leans back in her chair. Obtaining another battery isn’t the issue, it’s making sure her absence doesn’t arouse suspicion.

“Conner, hold my calls for next hour,” Lena calls. “It’s a nice day. I think I’ll go for a walk.”

*

It’s not even a question about waking Ruby. My new companion aids me, speeding the process considerably. He must be a former Neural Net employee for he knowns his way around the machinery. But I’ve got a problem now. Two more to retrieve in Lot A and only one battery. Without the energy replacement, the system will report a failure and send someone to check it out within a matter of minutes.

“What’s wrong?” asks my male companion.

“I need to get in touch with someone,” I say.

He tilts his head.

“Maintenance phone down the hallway, just past the first left.” He pauses. “If it’s someone internal hit zero for an operator.”

Definitely a former employee. I release the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.

“Wait here.”

It’s less simple than being connected by the operator of course. I have to bully my way past a series of increasingly self-important assistants before I finally get Lena on the line. _Batteries. Lot A._ Once those words pass my lips I hang up. There’s still much to be done.

Our awkward trio links arms, Ruby supported in the center, as we slowly relocate to Lot A. My breath slows involuntarily as I approach my former coffin. Sam rests peacefully, her body perfectly suspended in the liquid. It’s tempting to open the chamber and touch her, but I can’t risk it. Until Lena arrives, only one of the two people I care about here will wake.

Kara’s pod rests one row deeper than my own, her feet above Sam’s head. She’s aged gently. The meager diet has stripped her of remaining baby fat leaving her with well-defined cheekbones that emphasize her elegance.

“I promised I wouldn’t leave you behind,” I whisper. “Sorry it took so long.”

I inject two doses of adrenaline, one right after the other. At eleven years, her waking will be the roughest. She spasms forward and I catch her in a hug. With the edge of my sleeve I clear her blocked passageways.

“Kara,” I say, over and over. I want it to be the first thing she hears as her senses return. I want her to hear someone saying her name so she knows that she was not forgotten. Her unfocused eyes flicker with comprehension.

 “Alex?” she cries in a broken voice.

“Alex,” I say, squeezing her tight. “I promised you it would be ok.”

“What the hell is this?”

Lena’s voice booms across the open room, echoing throughout the lot.

“Did you bring another battery?” I ask, ignoring her question, and lifting Kara from the pod.

“Yes, but tell me who is this and how on earth have you already used three?”

The question bounces throughout the room and I cringe wondering whether it sounds as loud in the hallway.

“Is that Lena Luthor?”

The scratchy male voice sounds pleased. Lena’s face rapid-cycles from astonishment to guilt to fear to joy.

“Bailey!” She rushes over, nearly knocking the weakened Bailey to his back.

“Lena, it’s good to see you,” says Bailey. “This is, or rather was, my neighbor here, Ruby.”

The girl of twenty or so waves a bit clumsily, her legs splayed out at awkward angles where she reclines against a pod.

“Ruby also happens to be Sam’s sister,” I add.

Lena’s throat bobs in acknowledgement.

“Fine,” says Lena. “But who is she?” Lena gestures to Kara with a glare.

“This is _my_ sister,” I hiss. “And she’s part of the deal. Now you can hand over the last battery for Sam, or we can all wait here until security finds us.”

Lena’s teeth clench behind a tight smile.

“It figures you would leave Sam for last,” she says. “You’re nothing more than machine at this point, are you? You don’t know a thing about love.”

Involuntarily I flinch. Have I become so cold?

“I’m just trying to do what’s right for everyone,” I mutter. No one looks at me, and no one hears my excuses.

Efficiently, Lena disconnects Sam’s pod, hooking up the battery and disabling the chemical flow. She gazes through the clear top at Sam’s sleeping visage.

“I…um.” I gesture at the prepped shot of adrenaline.

“Right,” says Lena, stepping away. “I suppose Sam will want to see you first.”

“That’s not what I…” But Lena is already several feet away, waiting with hands interlaced behind her back.

Sam’s usual scent is mostly masked by the neutralizing saline, but as I lean in close I can just smell her. It brings a rush of memories; wet grass on a soccer field, burning pizza, the citrus candles she kept in her bedroom.

Not memories, I remind myself, dreams.

The needle never pierces her skin. As I try to separate my memories and my dreams of Sam, she wakes quietly with a soft sigh. I drop to a knee, sliding my arm beneath her neck so none of the liquid will slosh into her mouth. Her eyes open with a flutter. Then she smiles. It’s calm, genuine. Forgiving.

“I thought you left,” she says.

“I did too.”

I can’t tear my eyes away from her. In her expression, so full of trust, I know myself again. I understand Alex Danvers; from the driven teenager with a chip on her shoulder to the prisoner so trapped she forgot how to live to the adult breaking into a secure facility to save a stranger and three people she’s only met in her dreams.

“Why’d you come back?” Sam asks quietly. In her calm expression I see all three versions of Alex Danvers in their imperfections, yet reconciled and perfect to Sam.

“I couldn’t stop dreaming of you,” I say.

Unexpectedly a deep-throated chuckle interrupts. Lena fans a hand in front of her face. Kara bites the inside of her cheek, glancing away to take in Lena’s mirth.

Crap. I forgot we had an audience.

“I’m so sorry,” Lena says. “But did you work on that line long?”

*

Alex smiles at me, gorgeous, warm, strong. She’s put on muscle and her formerly gaunt cheeks have filled out nicely. I can scarcely hear what she says over the thought that reverberates in my mind.

_She came back for you._

“I need to go,” says Lena. “Can you get this?”

She looks past me, past Alex as well, studiously avoiding the direct sight of us together. Alex grimaces but nods. As I rise from the saline bath I understand. I am not the only recently awakened sleeper. There are four of us including one that shouldn’t be here at all. A ghost.

“Ruby!”

I can’t move. She died years ago. She lives only in National City yet here she is, older than I remember, thinner, and…

“Your legs,” I say.

“They don’t work as well as they used to,” Ruby responds.

“But you didn’t die?”

“Guess not.”

“You didn’t know?” Alex asks in a low voice.

“Know what?”

Her face pales.

“We need to go,” Alex says. “Can you carry Ruby?”

I’m exhausted but if it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to make sure my baby sister gets out of here. That she gets her chance at life.

My muscles burn and senses black out periodically, but somehow, after hours of agony I can rest in the nondescript hotel room Alex leads us. The eyes of the other sleepers are bloodshot, yet like me, they refuse to lay down on either of the two double beds. Alex rises at a staccato knock at the door, peering through the eyehole before opening it just wide enough for Lena Luthor to slip inside.

“You were supposed to be here half an hour ago,” Alex whispers loudly.

“We don’t have much time,” Lena says, beelining for Bailey. She crouches. “I need to know where it is. Tell me you hid a copy.”

Bailey shakes his head. “It was Jon’s work. The only copies were the ones uploaded and presumably purged.”

“Goddamn Jonathan Jones!” Lena says. “I hope he’s rotting in the void.”

“Jon deserves better,” responds Bailey sharply. “We all do.”

“J’onn?” repeats Alex slowly. “Did you say J’onn J’onzz?”

“Yeah, sort of,” replies Lena. Her eyes widen. “You know him,” she says. “That’s how you built your world. It’s in your code!”

“For the millionth time I’m not a machine and I’m not code,” says Alex hotly.

Lena opens her mouth but a loud banging at the door cuts her off. No one moves. A loud crack follows, accompanied by splintering around the door handle. Again. On the third hit, the door gives way, swinging open. SWAT officers step aside to let an imposing woman with greying hair forward, her arms crossed in a familiar manner.

“Mother,” says Lena.

“Daughter,” responds Lillian Luthor with a tsking of her tongue. “I expected better from you. This is amateurish at best. Arrest them all,” she orders.

“You don’t have jurisdiction here,” says Lena, blocking the path into the room. “This was an authorized exercise by the Neural Net CEO regarding Neural Net assets.”

“I’m still a board member,” says Lillian. “This little exercise of yours was not authorized by the Board.”

“No, it wasn’t,” agrees Lena. “Because it will be included in my proposal to the Board next week.”

Lillian purses her lips.

“If the Board approves the changes I propose,” Lena continues. “Then I think you’ll find there’s been no crime here. And that every individual in this room has the right to remain.”

“And if we don’t approve?”

Lena’s chin juts out slightly.

“The law’s the law. But unless the Board finds I’ve acted recklessly, this is all aboveboard.”

Lillian considers the response, finally inclining her head towards the officer in charge.

“Very well. Officer, you may recall your men for the time being. Lena, I look forward to this presentation of yours. And don’t think just because I’m your mother that I’m an easy yes vote. You still need to convince me.”

“I’d expect no less,” responds Lena.

“One week,” says Lillian, stepping back through the shattered door. “Enjoy what time remains, dears.”


	14. Twelve Months, One Week Later

After seven nights by her side, I still don’t think I’ll ever get enough of Sam. In all the combined memories and dreams, nothing compares to being with her _now_. I need to hold on to every minute, every second, for each one could be our last.

She breathes roughly against my ear, her abs clenching against my arm as she fights to maintain control, to draw this moment out a little bit longer. When she releases its quiet. An inaudible inhalation, followed by a much longer, shuddering exhale. Our heart beats slow in tandem as I roll over and she takes my place on top.

Light glows around the beige curtain of our hotel room, signaling the start of day. But as long as I keep my face turned I don’t have to see. It doesn’t have to be dawn. We can remain right here in this moment.

“What are we doing?” Sam whispers.

“I thought it was obvious,” I respond. “Sometimes, when a woman loves another woman very much…”

“No, I mean…This won’t last. You’re going to be sent back. And maybe I will, maybe I won’t but regardless…”

I kiss her to stop the words I know are coming. _We won’t be together_. It’s an impossible thought, for here we are, two pieces that fit together like a puzzle. My missing half.

“Lena has a plan,” I remind her. I can’t believe I’m pinning my hopes on Lena Luthor, but it’s all I’ve got.

“Or we can leave,” I suggest for the dozenth time. “We can run away. Open a bed and breakfast on the northern coast. You can serve your specialty too-soggy cereal and I can toss blankets over the bed every morning and call them made. Yelp will love us.”

Sam’s giggle is enough to make me almost believe it’s possible. That somehow we could evade the two dozen armed guards that have kept watch over this hotel since the day we arrived. That we could disappear and live a normal life. Or whatever passes for normal these days.

“We’ll never have normal lives,” Sam says. “Least of all you.”

I start. Have I been talking aloud? Sam smiles, finger tracing the curve of my frown.

“You’re special, Alex. I wouldn’t want to confine you to something less than extraordinary. Even in your dreams you couldn’t help but be remarkable.”

I groan and duck under the covers. Not this again. First Lena, then Sam, even Kara all harping on that damn virus.

“My only worth is whatever code made National City,” I say. “I didn’t create it. It was given to me. I’m just lucky.”

Sam pulls back the covers, bringing with her a rush of cool air.

“Not true. You built it. And you were special long before you built National City, before Jonathan Jones, before the Test. Did you know Jones was your proctor? He selected people he’d interviewed based upon those most likely to adapt to the alternate program. Every other copy failed, but you found a way to make it work. That’s why it wasn’t detected. It’s why you’re here today. That’s not luck. That’s character.”

Sam strokes my hair and I want to believe her. As much as I want to believe Lena when she says she has a solution. In the silence, muffled laughter can be heard from the adjoining room. Sam shifts, glancing at the wall with concern.

“Don’t worry. Kara can look after Ruby until we’re ready to get up.”

The light around the edge of the curtain grows brighter. The laughter hushes, replaced again by the low whirring of the fan. Sam’s nails dig into my triceps, her breath tickling my cheek.

“Maybe just one more minute,” Sam says. “Then we’ll get up.”

“One more minute,” I agree, even as I know one more minute will never be enough.

*

“Will it work? Will people actually choose it?”

Kara’s gaze is so earnest Lena can’t help but laugh. Kara shushes, pointing to her still-sleeping roommate.

“Sorry,” Lena whispers.

“It’s fine. Honestly Ruby could sleep through a hurricane. But it is early.” Kara’s piercing blue eyes move from Ruby back to Lena with interest. “Do you really think it will work?”

“Absolutely. People will fall over themselves for the chance. Provided of course that they can exercise some control over it. Which thanks to your sister, we now can.”

_Really thanks to Kara_.

It’s only because Kara insisted that Alex agreed to the process to extract her unique brainwave patterns in the first place. Those electrical impulses, translated into ones and zeroes, are the key to transforming Neural Net’s programming into something far more powerful. A new default dreamscape, one with flexible capabilities to expand to new universes, one able to synchronize with others to create a dynamic, shared world.

“But is that wrong?” Kara asks. “To want to live someplace that’s not real?”

“What is reality?” Lena challenges. “Dreams, stories, fantasies… they are as real as we make them. If some people choose to live their lives in a world of their choosing, well, who am I to judge? In the end, all that matters is your satisfaction with the life you chose.”

“I suppose,” Kara says thoughtfully.

In the other bed Ruby yawns. Lena glances at her watch.

“I need to check in with Bailey before heading to the office,” Lena says.

“Will I see you later?” Kara asks.

“Of course, silly.”

Kara’s brow crinkles.

“Promise?”

Instinctively Lena reaches, cupping her hands around Kara’s surprisingly warm skin. Kara’s hand trembles.

“You’ll be fine,” Lena soothes.

Kara shakes her head.

“It’s not me I’m worried about,” she says. “I know who I am. I know people care about me and care what happens to me. It’s you that doesn’t seem to realize the same.”

The slightly younger girl suddenly appears years older and wiser. They’ve talked often over the past week, in large part because Kara always seemed to be around when Lena needed to avoid the sight of Alex and Sam in their love bubble. But today Lena hadn’t even knocked on the other door, instead wanting some time with Kara before the stress of today’s Board meeting and decision. Maybe this is why. Kara exudes a kind of warmth, a deep-seated strength that Lena needs today more than ever. An innocence not to be confused with naivety. She already knows Lena’s plan and somehow that makes it easier.

“I’m a Luthor,” Lena says. She intends it sardonically, but it emerges with a bitter edge. “No one cares what happens to me.”

Kara shakes her head.

“You’re whatever you make of yourself,” she corrects. “And all of us care. Sam cares. Even Alex cares, though she doesn’t act like it. And I care.”

Kara’s voice softens and she blinks rapidly.

“I know it probably means nothing to you. But you’re the closest thing I have to a best friend.”

In response Lena simply squeezes Kara’s hand, not trusting her own voice.

*

“What is this?” demands Lillian.

Rows of chairs line the back of the room just beyond the semi-circular table reserved for the Neural Net board members.

“I’ve taken the liberty of inviting the press and interested members of the public,” Lena explains. “My proposal today has far-reaching implications and I don’t want anyone to feel like we held back important information.”

“Your proposal requires a vote first.”

“Indeed,” agrees Lena. “All the same. I think the public has a right to hear it and how this Board votes. And I have the right to open these meetings if I so choose.”

Lillian glances at the gathering crowd.

“Careful what you wish for dear,” she says. “You might be overestimating the extent to which the public will rally behind anyone with the last name Luthor.”

“We’ll see,” says Lena.

In the back row, Sam paces, her adorably panicky side emerging. Lena grins, gesturing her into a back hallway. The silence descends suddenly as the door from the crowded conference room closes.

“God I’m nervous,” says Sam. “Are you nervous? You must be nervous. What can I do? Tell me there is something I can do.”

“You can take a breath,” Lena says. “I’m not nervous.”

The surprise is that it’s true. Her heart thumps calm and steady and she feels grounded, present.

The pale grey carpet, white walls, and floor to ceiling windows that dominate all of the Neural Net buildings form a kind of boxed-in existence, a chamber of sorts. Each one with clear views of the outside world that no one inside acknowledges. A self-contained world folding in on itself.

Today the sky forms a perfect blue, shifting from a pale yellow on the eastern edge of the sky to a deep ocean blue on the west. Birds pass by in their lopsided V formations and people as tiny as ants scurry to and fro along the concrete paths twenty stories below.

Lena smiles to herself. Someday, not today, she will need to thank Alex Danvers. If Sam hadn’t disappeared, Lena might have never noticed the world outside her windows. She might have never known there were other worlds to explore, places where no one has heard the name Luthor. Or known people who didn’t care what her family name might be.

Sam twists her hands over each other.

“It’s almost time,” she says. “I can tell them it was my idea. That it’s my fault. I have a chance at leniency.”

Lena shakes her head.

“Before I took over this company, my mother took great pleasure in giving me a number of life lessons. In several respects I’ve tried to be a different kind of leader than she was, but there is one lesson, her final one in fact, which I’ve always remembered.”

Lena pauses, the murmuring from the other room just barely audible. They must all be waiting for her.

“Sometimes, my mother told me; you have to make an example. And the most powerful examples are the most public.”

Sam furrows her brow. “I don’t understand.”

Lena smiles.

“You will.”

She turns abruptly from the window, heels tapping rhythmically as the noise of the conference floods into the hall with waves of light flash from the assembled press and curious public. Sam follows Lena to the conference room, slipping to the back row as Lena takes her place at the podium up front.

“Greetings, members of the Board, the press, the public.” Lena nods towards Alex, Bailey, Ruby, Sam, and Kara.

“And friends. I am here today with a proposal for the future of Neural Net. The future of the world. Effective immediately, I am pleased to announce that Neural Net is withdrawing its support for the Test,” says Lena. “No more shall we place children through this skewed system, condemning some based solely on their day of testing, their family of birth. From this point on, all individuals entering the network shall do so of their own free will.”

The crowd murmurs loudly. Calmly Lena lifts her chin, waiting for silence.

“Thanks to the work of several analysts over the years as well as a particularly gifted individual, we have identified a code that defaults to a fully realized world not too dissimilar from our own. This remarkable program allows networked individuals to interact and form social connections just as we do; and is for all intents and purposes indistinguishable from this reality.”

“Bullshit!” comes a call. Lena ignores the jab.

“Our testing has been extensive,” she continues. “And board members, you will find the detailed results in your folders. I myself, am thoroughly convinced of the value of this model. This new network, our thirty-eighth iteration, is far and away our most advanced. Those that elect the network shall be assured of a rich and full life in a virtual world, with near-endless possibilities.”

Lena straightens her posture at the podium, a proud smile creeping across her face.

“These endless possibilities are why I, Lena Luthor, have volunteered as the first to be placed into the Earth-38 network.”

A chair scrapes loudly as Bailey rises to his feet, mouth open. Lena holds up a hand. The room is utterly silent.

“In my place, I’m pleased to announce the promotion of Samantha Arias to the position of Neural Net CEO.”

Lena pauses. No one in the room breathes.

“I will accept questions now.”

*

The room explodes.

It feels like the floor has dropped out from beneath. My legs feel wobbly and my vision teeters. CEO of Neural Net? The one overseeing the new Earth-38 network and complete change in direction for the business? A pair of arms wrap around my torso as a voice whispers in my ear.

“So am I to understand I’m dating the new CEO of Neural Net?” teases Alex. “I should warn you, I’ve been known to have problems with authority.”

“I’m not sure if we’re in the network right now,” I respond. This has to be a dream.

“We’re not.” Alex grins. “The Board voted it through. Lena really put them in a tight spot with all the press watching.”

Alex is right. The Board packs up their stuff with expressions that range from giddy excitement to shock. Lena speaks calmly into half a dozen microphones thrust in her face, Bailey tapping his foot impatiently a few feet away. Lena gestures me over and numbly I comply.

“Neural Net’s newest CEO,” announces Lena. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we have a few remaining transition items to take care of.”

Lena guides me aside with a grin.

“Whatever happened to being a creature of the day?” I ask. “What the hell? Is this a joke?”

“No joke,” says Lena, brushing her hair back with one hand. “I’m a Luthor. I’m the CEO of the most feared company in the world. If anyone can use a fresh start, it’s me. I’d like to imagine that maybe there I can do some good. I can still bring the light of day to those that have been in the dark.”

“You mean the people in the current network,” I say.

Lena nods.

“Alex was able to do it, so it must be possible. Only someone inside the network can bridge the gap. Once I realized that…” She shrugs. “The decision was made for me. My work lies in National City.”

Alex leans in, her hand sliding across my shoulder.

“I never thought I’d say this, but Lena, I think you’re right,” says Alex. “You should call your organization L-corp. You know? For Luth–”

“For Lena,” Lena interrupts. “L-Corp. I like it.”

Alex shrugs and turns to Kara.

“Ready to go kiddo? We’ve got our whole life now. For real.”

Kara looks down quickly.

“I…”

“Kara, you don’t have to,” Lena says quickly.

“But I want to,” Kara says. “I agree with Lena. If I can do some good there, then that’s where I should be. Plus, I’m not going to let my best friend leave that easy.”

“Kara–” Alex begins.

“It’s her choice,” Bailey says. “And it’s my choice as well. That’s the whole point.”

“We’ll be able to visit,” I say. “We still have the neural bands. We will need to check in from time to time.”

Alex’s pained expression fades as Kara’s face brightens.

“Please Alex! Come visit! I want to see what you made for me. What you made for all of us.”

“Ok,” relents Alex. “But please tell me I’m not the only one staying here.”

“I’m afraid you’re stuck with me,” I say. “I spent too long not living in this world. I’m ready to try again.”

“Ditto,” says Ruby. “Real life for me. Though I promise to visit,” she adds to Kara.

Our awkward group stands, three facing three for a moment.

“Wow,” says Lena. She releases a shaky breath. “So this is really it, huh?”

“Just for now,” I say. “You can let us know whenever you’re ready to wake. We will come get you.” A lump in my throat causes me to pause. Alex interlaces her fingers with mine, exerting soft pressure.

I realize the lingering media has gathered at a short distance, hoping for one final photo op or juicy quote. Lena gives me an imperceptible nod. It’s time for me to take over.

“I thank you for your contribution to society,” I say, loud enough for the press to hear. “Both in this life and in the one to come.”

I extend a hand and formally Lena meets my grip.

“Dream well,” I say. “And let us know when you’re ready for your night to end.”


End file.
